


epiphany.

by gingerthestormwitch



Series: epiphany [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Action & Romance, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Complete, Depression, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Murder, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, POV Bucky Barnes, Past Torture, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Trauma, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:36:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 107,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerthestormwitch/pseuds/gingerthestormwitch
Summary: Sergeant James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes AKA The Winter Soldier doesn't remember much of his past. You are a former SHIELD intelligence analyst with a troubled past who seeks to help him uncover it. What you don't expect is to fall in love along the way.(Bucky Barnes x Reader).Slow Burn (I love the tension) and smut.Setting: After CA:TWS until/during/after CA:CW - 2014 - 2016.My OC belongs to me, anything associated with Marvel doesn't; I just use them as my playthings.UPDATE (09/21/2020): Went through and edited the formatting a bit for all chapters just so it was more uniform. Also made some minor edits to Chapters 11 and 12 because I didn't like the flow, no major plot changes made though.
Relationships: Avengers Team/Reader, Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton/Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark & Avengers Team
Series: epiphany [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025029
Comments: 53
Kudos: 135





	1. Chapter One

_**"...you dream of some epiphany** _

  
  


_**Just one single glimpse of relief** _

  
  


_**To make sense of what you've seen."** _

~*~*~*~

**Washington DC. April 2014.**

Mid-April in Washington, DC was always a busy time of year. Congress was getting ready to reconvene after the Easter holiday; however, senators and representatives were returning early to address the Attack on the Triskelion and the HYDRA Uprising. The exposure of HYRDA and S.H.I.E.L.D. secrets had put many politicians and their constituents in hot water; to say the situation was a cluster was an understatement. But with the return of so many people, it meant the club was busy, which meant more tips which were the most you could hope for after The Fall.

You had taken to calling the HYDRA Uprising "The Fall" as your life as you knew was stripped away that day. You were once a rising intelligence analyst "handpicked" by S.H.I.E.L.D. three years previously after you infiltrated one of their databases. It was either prison or working for "the enemy", a regular Penelope Garcia moment. However, working for S.H.I.E.L.D. had its perks. It offered financial security and place away from your past. You had begun to put down roots here. You had a small apartment in Foggy Bottom, made a few friends, and felt yourself slowly fall back in love with your old hobbies. However "The Fall" threatened to uproot you once again. You were grateful for the few years of stability you had while working with S.H.I.E.L.D. It managed to help you score your current job as one of the weekly headliners at a jazz club called The Red Room. Rent and bills needed to be paid while you were in between jobs.

Although Spring was in full swing, the weather in DC could be fickle. You wrapped your cardigan closer to your body in an effort to keep out the night's damp cold breeze as you stepped into the alleyway behind the club. A busy club meant the atmosphere was stuffy and close; so you usually took your breaks between outside while nursing a finger of whiskey and honey. You perched on a crate covered in newspaper showcasing headlines regarding the HYDRA Uprising to keep dirt and grime off your dress and took a sip of whiskey. You closed your eyes and breathed in deeply, grateful for the time alone between sets. You took out your phone to check emails; you had sent out numerous applications to various agencies that may find your experience useful earlier in the week. No responses from any of them so far. Despite your three years with S.H.I.E.L.D., you did not have any formal training or education associated with your profession. It also didn't help you were unable to put your full list of “tools and talent” on your resume as some of them were less than savory. You sighed and for the umpteenth time that week regretted not taking S.H.I.E.L.D. up on their offer to pay for a college degree.

A shifting of objects could be heard a bit farther down the alley. You rose from your seat unfazed, placing your glass down on the crate, and moved towards the noise assuming it was the resident tomcat you had befriended and fed every once in a while.

"Come here, big man," you cooed as you made kissing noises. You moved slowly down the alley looking in between garbage cans and plastic crates for your friend. "I don't have any scraps for you right now, but if you come out, I can see what I can scrounge up in the kitchen later." More rustling came from a pile of black trash bags sounding almost too big to be made by a lone tomcat. You then heard a low groan and stopped. Your heartbeat quickened.

"Hello?" you called out lowly, your voice shook slightly. You noticed some of the bags shifting and caught a flash of silver and leather. _"That's not a cat,"_ you thought. You moved toward the pile of bags. "Hey there, are you okay? Do you need help?" you asked as you approached the pile. You began to move bags off of them revealing a man wearing dark clothing with messy long hair and a 5 o'clock shadow. You realized the silver was that of a prosthetic arm. He didn't appear to be fully conscious; almost like he was having a nightmare. His eyes were squeezed shut; his brow furrowed. He breathed heavily and shakily. He spoke in a foreign language that sounded Eastern European. You bent down and shook his leg. "Hey there," you said softly, "wake up, you're having a nightmare."

All at once, the man's eyes shot open and he swiftly stood upright, wobbling a bit as he did so. "Whoa!" you exclaimed as you shot back placing 6 feet between you and the man. "It's okay!" you said a little softer with your arms in front of you. "It's just a dream. You're oka-"

"Unde sunt? Cine ești tu?" The man said gruffly, shaking his head to clear it. He continued to breathe heavily as his eyes flicked around quickly to take in his surroundings. His stance defensive and his fists near his face like a boxer.

"Uhhh...I don-" you stammered.

"Где я? Кто ты?" He interrupted. You assumed he asked the same question again in a different language. You sighed.

"English?" you asked. The man's breathing slowed as the nightmare faded away. He looked at you properly for the first time, his dark blue eyes locking with your own. You swallowed, his gaze was intense. You used that time to get a better look at him. He looked pretty beat up. He has multiple bruises and cuts across his face. His hair was tangled and greasy. His clothes looked torn and burnt. You noticed empty weapon holsters. He held his non-prosthetic arm at an awkward angle like his shoulder had been dislocated recently. He blinked a few times but did not relax his stance. The man cleared his throat.

"Where am I? Who are you?" he asked again thickly.

You slowly lowered your arms and opened your stance palms up to appear nonthreatening. "I'm (Y/N L/N). You're in Washington DC behind a jazz club called The Red Room." You paused as your words sank in. His stance relaxed a little as he lowered his arms. His breathing slowed. You attempted to close the distance between both of you, but he stepped back. You brought your arms to your chest palms facing him, again attempting to make yourself as nonthreatening as possible. "What's your name?" you asked keeping his gaze.

He blinked and looked a the slick concrete of the alley. He took a deep shuddering breath. "I...I don't know..." he said quietly looking up through his hair that hung in front of his face.

"Okay," you prodded softly. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I...I remember...an airship on fire...debris falling into a river...the colors red, white and blue..."

You stiffened at the mention of the colors sucking in a breath through your nose. You again observed the man in front of you. His prosthetic arm was made of some sort of metal and seemed to have the full range of motion that a normal arm would unlike most prostheses you had seen. You noticed the red star painted on his upper arm. You gave a small gasp, but he didn't seem to notice. You know exactly who this man was. You had come across some secret files regarding him when you were an analyst. He continued to ramble.

"A bank filled with people...I think I hurt them...but I didn't kill them...no more killing...no more blood...not on my hands," he looked at the ground, the shame evident on his face. "I need to find out...I need to remember."

You again moved forward slowly still holding up your hands. "Okay, that's good." You gave him a soft smile while looking him over. "You look pretty beat up. Those cuts need cleaning and your shoulder needs to be put back in place. I can help you if you want me to. My apartment isn't too far from here." He looked back up at you in slight surprise and confusion. He seemed apprehensive. "No tricks," you assured. "I promise." He continued to stare at you quizzically.

"Why would you want to help me?", he asked.

"You shrugged. "You're in trouble and confused. I've been there. Not the same situation obviously, but I know that I wanted someone to offer to help me." He continued to stare at you mulling over your offer. "I will have to go back inside to get my things though if you accept my offer. Kinda can't walk out of my job for no reason," you chuckled softly. "If you want to follow me in you can. I promised you no tricks."

His eyes softened slightly. "No, that's okay. I trust you."

"You sighed relief and backed towards the door to the club. Picking up your whiskey and offering it to him. "Here, you look like you could use a drink. It's whiskey and honey," you said taking a small sip before offering it to him. "Again no tricks."

He reached out tentatively with his metal arm and gently took the glass. "Thank you, ma'am," he said. You nodded at him.

"I'll be right back," you promised as you opened the metal door to the club. "I promise." He nodded to you. You gave him one last glance before slipping into the club.

You quickly made your way back to the dressing room you shared with the other performers grabbing your purse and keys then went looking for your boss.

"Y/N!" you heard the manager call. "Where have you been? You are on in 10 minutes!"

"Actually, Gabe, I am feeling really nauseous and dizzy all of a sudden," you lied smoothly. "I really don't want to vomit in the middle of a set."

Gabe sighed heavily, weighing his options. "Fine, Y/N, I'll let you off this time since you have never called out before, but next time you better have a doctor's excuse. I let the newbie get in some extra sets to fill yours."

"Thanks, Gabe," you said touching his arm. "It won't happen again, I promise."

"Yeah, yeah, promises, promises, now get out of here before you vomit all over my hallway." He waved you off.

You again made your way out the backdoor to the alley anxious to see whether or not he would still be there. A small part of you hoped that maybe he wouldn't be. You knew from the files you had seen that he was dangerous and capable of all sorts of violence. You quickly checked your purse ensuring your small firearm was still inside along with the small comfort it gave you. You took a deep breath and opened the door.

He was there sitting on the crate you had been not ten minutes prior. The whiskey glass was empty. He had his metal arm outstretched towards a large black tomcat; his finger almost touching the cat's nose. You laughed softly as you approached. "Hey, big man," you cooed. The tomcat looked to you, gave a soft meow, and rubbed on your legs before sauntering down the alleyway continuing to make his nightly rounds.

"Okay, shall we go?" you asked turning to the man as he stood up. He nodded slightly. You gestured to the end of the alleyway, "My car is this way. I live about 10 minutes from here."

He nodded, "After you, ma'am." He was careful to keep some distance between the two of you as you walked down the alleyway. You walked in silence to the parking lot near the club.

~*~*~*~

The car ride was also silent save for your music. You had been assessing new music trying to decide whether or not to add it to your sets at the club, mostly from jazz artists from the 40s. As you hummed softly to "God Bless the Child" by Billie Holiday, you could have sworn you heard him humming too.

Your apartment was small, but it suited you just fine. It was just you, after all, no roommate meant no judgment for how much of a mess you left your space daily. There was sheet music scattered all over the keyboard in the corner. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink. Clothes and shoes were strewn around and on the couch. The desktop in other corner buzzed quietly. His eyes wandered around the apartment as if trying to discern if there were any imminent threats.

"Sorry, for the mess," you apologized gathering up random clothing items from the couch and tossing them into the corner nearest your linen closet. You gestured for him to sit down. "I'm going to grab my first aid kit. We need to clean those cuts before they get infected." He nodded as he sat down.

You ducked into your small bathroom and dug for the first aid kit under your sink. Your family had always kept a first aid kit in every bathroom in the house and some habits were hard to break. You took the time to splash some water on your face and wash your hands. _"How insane am I?"_ you thought. _"He's the Winter Soldier. The infamous assassin who appeared periodically over the last 70 years."_ You grabbed a small rag and ran it under the hot water.

It was true that his appearances were so unpredictable, some agencies believed he was nothing more than a ghost story. But whenever he turned up some tragedy always followed. It made sense that he showed up now since the HYDRA Uprising during the launch of Project Insight had taken place a few days ago. " _But he doesn't seem dangerous now,"_ you thought, _"He seems scared more than anything."_ You shook your head, grabbing the kit along with the rag, and made your way back to the living area.

The Winter Soldier sat stiffly on the couch and didn't bother to look at you when you entered. You slowly sat the kit then yourself on the coffee table. His hands curled into fists at your proximity. "I have some antiseptic and band-aids for your small cuts, but you have some bigger ones that need to be cleaned first before we can apply them. I can help you, but I am going to have to touch you," you said softly. "Is that okay?"

He drew his gaze from the wall to your face. You implored him silently with your own eyes. He nodded minutely, "Yes, ma'am."

You smiled and began to slowly clean the dried blood and dirt off of his face. He didn't look to be older than 30. "You know, you don't have to keep calling me 'ma'am'. You can just use my name, Y/N, 'ma'am' makes me feel old." you chuckled. You felt his face twitch as if he was attempting to smile you and gave you a slight nod. As you continued to clean the blood from his face, you noticed him relax little by little.

"I think...I think my name might be James," he said quietly as you moved on to sterilizing his wounds with the antiseptic wash. You stilled your hands.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, James," you said. You inspected his cuts, all were shallow and didn't require stitches. Head wounds always bled more than other wounds no matter how deep they were. "Well, good news, you don't need stitches," you proclaimed putting the cap on the antiseptic wash. "Now to take care of your shoulder."

Your training with S.H.I.E.L.D. had covered more than just basic first aid; honestly, you were pretty sure you could become an EMT if your search for other intelligence analyst positions failed. "You'll need to have you remove your jacket," you said packing up with first aid kit. "I'm not trying to make a move on you, I swear," you insisted when you saw he didn't move to remove it, "It will just be difficult to do with it in your jacket and that material doesn't look to have that much give...No tricks," you promised once more. He nodded and made quick work of the buckles and straps with his metal arm. He shrugged it off stiffly never once wincing in pain as he did so. You weren't sure if it was bravado or if he just didn't feel pain. Once free of the jacket you took it from him folding it slightly and placed it next to you on the coffee table. He sat there in a white tank top. You noted he looked to be in very fit for someone who was technically supposed to be 96-years-old. You tore your gaze from his form feeling the slight heat rise to your cheeks.

You instructed him to lie down on the couch with his injured shoulder facing you. You looked to him for confirmation before placing your hands on his arm. He nodded. You slowly stretched his arm out to the side letting his elbow stay bent and began moving it over his head. "Let me know if we need to stop," you instructed. He gave another stiff nod. You slowly rotated his hand behind his head and toward the back of his neck once his arm was over the level of his shoulder. You then moved his arm towards his opposite shoulder until you felt the joint pop back into place. You noticed a look of relief slightly flood his features. You stepped back to allow him to sit up, and wiggle his shoulder slightly. "Better?" you asked.

He nodded and gave you a small smile. "Much, doll, thank you," he said stretched his arm out alternating flexing his fingers and making a fist.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks again. "I will take 'doll' over 'ma'am' any day." you laughed turning away. "Let me get you some pain meds and then you can use the shower." You motioned to the first door in the small hallway when you returned with two pills of ibuprofen and a glass of water. As you placed the pills into his palm, a slight tingle ran up your arm as your fingers brushed. You blushed again gathering up the kit and the glass as James swallowed the pills. "Handle to the left for hot water. Towels are on the rack by the toilet." You returned to the kitchen. "I'll see if I can find you any clothes to wear. I should have at least a t-shirt and some sweatpants around here. I'll leave it by the door so you can grab it when you are done." You moved to the kitchen.

James nodded and moved toward the bathroom door. "I appreciate this, Y/N," he said sincerely. You looked up from washing the glass. He looked almost completely different from the man you met in the alleyway, lighter more relaxed.

"No problem, James," you smiled. "You are more than welcome to stay. I'll make up the couch for you." He nodded and made his way to the bathroom closing the door softly behind him. You slumped over the sink, exhaling heavily. _"Get your shit together, Y/L/N,"_ you thought. _"We still don't know exactly what his plan is or his intentions."_

As you heard the shower start to run, you rummaged through your linen closet searching for extra blankets and pillows as well the box of clothes your ex-boyfriend left when you had kicked him out the year before. James and he looked to have been about the same size. You found the box quickly and noted it contained a pair of black sweats, a couple of t-shirts, one red and one black, a few pairs of underwear, some socks, a blue zip-up hoodie, and pair of jeans. You smiled and left the box by the bathroom before heading to your room to change out of your dress and heels into sweatpants of your own complete with a Princess Leia t-shirt.

You had just finished making up the couch when you heard the door open and then close for the first time. You put the kettle on to boil water for tea when you heard the door open again. James padded into the living room wearing the sweatpants low on his hips and the black t-shirt. You turned and motioned to the kettle, "Tea?" He declined with a wave of his hand. You poured some water over a tea bag into a mug full of honey and set a saucer on top for it to steep.

James folded his dirty clothes so the corners were crisp and smoothed them as flat as they could, like your grandfather, a Marine veteran, used to do. He had taught you a way to roll up your socks so if needed they could be used to pelt an oncoming enemy. You smiled and shook your head at the memory. James looked at you quizzically but didn't say anything. You gestured to the couch, "I hope this is okay," you said, "I don't get guests that often."

He nodded, "It's perfect, doll, thank you."

You smiled sipping your tea as you sat on the oversize chair opposite the couch, "So what is your plan for tomorrow? You said you needed to remember. Did you remember anything else?"

He looked at his hands as he sat on the couch. His forefinger and thumb rubbing together in circular motions on both hands. "I think my last name is Barnes...and I remember using the title Sergeant."

You nodded and pressed your lips together. Taking a moment to consider telling him what you knew, but not wanting to scare or confuse him more, you simply said, "I recognize the name."

"You do?" he whispered looking up you, a small glimmer of hope tinged his voice.

You nodded. "What do you say about taking a trip to the Smithsonian tomorrow, Sarge?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes:
> 
> I am totally emotionally invested in the character than is Sergeant James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes so I decided to write a fanfic about him to curb my desire for the release of Falcon and Winter Soldier which this fucking pandemic has deprived us. I hope you will stick around for me!
> 
> Be sure to leave comments if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> P.S. I am a HUGE pop-culture nerd so Y/N will be making a lot of references to various fandoms, shows, movies, and books. 
> 
> Beginning quote from "epiphany" by Taylor Swift


	2. Chapter Two

“ _ **Tell me, who’s gon’ save me from myself**_

  
  


_**When this life is all I know?** _

  
  


_**Tell me who’s gon’ save me from this hell?** _

  
  


_**Without you, I’m all alone.”** _

~*~*~*~

**Washington DC. April 2014.**

The Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian had been open for only a few weeks before the HYDRA Uprising. It contained numerous artifacts and memorabilia from Captain Steven Grant "Steve" Rogers' life including his early life, Project Rebirth, the Howling Commandos, and how he saved the lives of millions by downing the HYDRA bomber _Valkryie_ in the Arctic. You had been here a few times before. Your grandfather would often tell you stories of the Captain and his Howling Commandos and their missions to destroy HYDRA bases throughout Europe. Your grandfather had since passed away, and seeing his stories come to life had brought you comfort.

You also knew that the exhibit had a big section dedicated to the memory of Sergeant James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, lifelong best friend to Captain America who was “supposedly”, tragically killed in action during a mission to capture the HYDRA scientist, Arnim Zola.

~*~*~*~

_You had woken up early to shower only to find James asleep on the floor, no pillow or blanket. "_ The couch looks like it has been slept in though, _” you thought, "_ maybe he just fell off of it and didn't wake up. _" He looked peaceful. His breathing slow and even. You noticed the smaller cuts on his face were pink and smooth and his bruises looked faded. You knew he had been experimented on during World War II but you didn't fully remember to what extent. All of your files on The Winter Soldier were still on your laptop at the Triskelion. In an effort to escape as quickly as possible when the Helicarriers started firing on each other and HYDRA agents made themselves known, you had left it on your desk._

_You showered and dressed in a sweater, jeans, and sneakers. Despite the noise from your morning routine, James had yet to wake up. Part of you wanted to let him sleep, but you knew he would be eager to learn more about his past and the Smithsonian closed in the late afternoon. You knelt beside him and shook his shoulder lightly. "James," you said softly, "we need to leave soon if we want to have enou-" His eyes shot open. His metal arm shot up encircling your wrist in a vice-like grip as he quickly sat up. "Whoa!" you exclaimed trying to back away but fell back on your ass, "Hey, hey, it's just me, Y/N! You're safe!"_

_His eyes flicked around the room and blinked a few times when they landed on you. "Y/N?" he whispered. You nodded and his breathing slowed holding your gaze for a few more moments._

_You watched fear and confusion fade from his deep blue eyes and his face relax. His gaze just as intense as when you met him, but not in a threatening way. The word_ opia _came to mind. It was like his eyes had a story to tell. You almost wondered what he saw in yours. Your wrist pinched from his grip. You cleared your throat, "Uh, can I have my hand back now? I kinda need it to play piano."_

_His eyes flicked to your wrist and dropped your hand with a sharp intake of breath. "Jesus, I'm sorry," he exclaimed, "Are you okay?"_

_You nodded, "Don't worry, no harm done." You resisted the urge to rub your wrist; you were almost sure you would have a bruise there later. "I should know better, after our initial encounter last night," you gave a small chuckle. He continued to look at your wrist and said nothing. "No tricks," you assured catching his gaze once more. He nodded. "Another nightmare?" you inquired. He nodded again but didn't elaborate. "I get them too," you disclosed. "Almost punched my ex once when he tried to wake me." He cocked an eyebrow at your attempt to defuse the tension and gave a breath of a laugh. You smiled standing up brushing off your jeans. "The bathroom is free," you gestured behind you. "Get dressed and I'll make coffee."_

~*~*~*~

You had to admit you were slightly nervous at the idea of taking James to the Captain America exhibit. You had no idea how he would react. Once you reached the exhibit, you let him wander around alone. Never losing sight of him, but you gave a wide berth and enough space to take everything in without you hovering. You watched as he intently studied the Howling Commandos outfit replicas, Captain America's motorcycle, and then the recreation of Steve's childhood bedroom. _"A lot of these artifacts look authentic; I wouldn't be surprised if they were on loan from the Captain himself,"_ you thought.

He wore the hoodie you had found to conceal his metal arm. Even if people didn't what the Winter Soldier looked like, a full metal arm would have attracted too much attention. The baseball cap you gave him was pulled low over his eyes, so you were unable to read his expressions. He appeared curious, moving slowly through the exhibit and didn't seem agitated. Until he came to the memorial portion of the exhibit and stopped in front of his portrait and bio. You made to move closer to him before he turned suddenly on his heel and quickly made his way to the exit, bumping into other visitors as he did so. You followed him outside to a bench in front of the museum.

He sat with his head in his hands; breathing deeply and shakily. He was muttering to himself, "I knew him...He thinks I'm someone I'm not...I'm not the man he thinks I am..." He took another deep shaky breath. "That man is a ghost...he's...he's dead...but why does he still haunt me?"

You felt a lump in throat form as tears pricked your eyes. You hated seeing anyone in this much pain. You sat down next to him and placed your hand gently on his upper back wanting to offer him some form of comfort.

"My mission...Captain America called me Bucky on that airship," he said. "He said...said he knew me. Knew who I was. He told me my name was James Buchanan Barnes. He said I've known him my whole life. He said we were friends once." He looked up to stare into the distance. He sniffed. His eyes were glassy. "But I have no memories...at least I don't think I do. Anytime I think I remember something, it slips away."

You rubbed small circles on his back. His breathing evened out and the tension left his shoulders. "I know," you whispered. He looked at you curiously.

"How would you know?" he asked incredulously.

You sighed placing your hands in your lap. You hadn't told him about your involvement with S.H.I.E.L.D. yet; you had been afraid of how he would react. But after hearing him air out his frustrations, it would be wrong to leave him in the dark any longer. Trust had to be earned. You looked up at him. "Before the Attack on the Triskelion, I was an intelligence analyst for S.H.I.E.L.D. My job was to break down information field agents collected into key components and contribute to plans of action in order to mitigate and neutralize threats. I was "recruited" while I was still in college...when I hacked into several of their databases searching for answers regarding the death of my sister." You scratched the back of your neck sheepishly. "Anyway, in some intelligence circles, The Winter Soldier was considered to be a myth. The idea of the Winter Soldier has always interested me; it's one of the greatest mysteries in the intelligence community. To some, it made no sense to have the same operative completing missions all over the world over the past 50 years. But, the way I see it, after the Battle of New York in 2012, a lot of things don't seem impossible anymore."

Bucky nodded, "I recognize the term Winter Soldier. Most of the time, HYDRA just referred to me as 'The Asset'.” He paused turning slightly towards you, “I'm glad you told me."

You nodded, "I figure with everything you've probably been through and your current situation, you need some honesty...No tricks, just like I said." Bucky smiled slightly. You were both silent for a while. "Bucky," you used the name cautiously, and he made no move to correct you. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to help you. My skills are at your disposal. If you want, that is."

He seemed surprised at your declaration. "Why?" he asked.

"It's like I said last night," you replied. "You're in trouble and confused. I've been there. You're not alone. I want to help you in any way I can. Plus, it's not like I got much going for me right now."

His face fell slightly, "I'm sorry about that," he mumbled.

"I don't blame you," you shook your head, "HYDRA is...was much bigger than just you. I'm sure they would have found a way to take down S.H.I.E.L.D. with or without your involvement. None of what happened was your fault, I'm sure of it."

"You say that with such confidence," Bucky snorted.

You laughed too, "I like to give people the benefit of the doubt."

He chuckled slightly before sitting up a little straighter. He appeared to be on high alert. He subtly looked around. "Something's not right," he said lowly.

You swallowed, your heart thumping in your chest. "What do you see?" you asked, keeping your eyes on him.

"Jack Rollins..." he said evenly. "Dammit, those scientists from the bank probably told him I escaped. He’s likely been sent to retrieve me."

You recognized the name, Rollins was a former member of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Special Tactical Reserve for International Key Emergencies or STRIKE team and was now a known HYDRA agent. "How much time, we have?" you asked, your voice slightly shaking. Members of the STRIKE team were efficient and lethal; even as an analyst you never wanted to meet one.

"Not long, I don't think he has spotted us just yet though," murmured Bucky, "we need to go."

You stood up and held your hand out to Bucky. "C'mon, honey, our tour starts in 10 minutes." Taking the hint, Bucky took your hand as you helped him off the bench. Walking toward the museum entrance, you pulled his arm around your shoulders and wrapped your arm around his waist.

"You sure you're not a spy?" Bucky whispered in your ear as you walked up the steps; you shivered as his breath made contact with your neck.

"Definitely, not a spy," you whispered back. "You'd be amazed at how many women have to do something like this on a daily basis when they feel they are being followed." Bucky frowned. "Plus," you continued as he opened the entrance door, gesturing for you to walk through first, "crowded places mean fewer chances of causing a scene. I'm sure HYDRA would want to take you quietly given the circumstances."

He nodded, putting his arm around your shoulder once more as you walked through the lobby. You linked your fingers through his pulling him close. "Also it helps that PDA makes people uncomfortable," he mused.

"Exactly," you replied. "There should be a rear exit somewhere." Bucky nodded.

~*~*~*~

You and Bucky made your way to the back of the museum without incident.

"Now to find a new ride," Bucky mused. His eyes settled on a black Kawasaki Ninja street bike, "Perfect." He went to work hot wiring the bike.

You scoffed, "Real subtle."

"Bikes are faster and more maneuverable," he stated matter-of-factly as the bike started up. He tossed you the helmet. You shook your head as you pulled the helmet and secured the chin strap. He smirked as he mounted the bike. "Hop on, doll," he nodded to the small space on the seat behind him.

You gave a nervous laugh, "I hope you know what you are doing, Sarge." You mounted the bike squeezing in behind him wrapping your arms around him tightly.

"Whatever, you do, don't let go," he said backing the bike out of the space.

"Wasn't planning on it," you retorted as he moved to the exit of the parking lot. You then heard screams and saw the crowds part making a path for Rollins who had his gun raised. He fired multiple times and you heard bullets whizzing past your heads as Bucky pealed out of the parking lot. You let out a small shriek and buried your head in his back.

"Probably not safe to go back to your apartment," Bucky yelled over the wind. You agreed, there was a good chance Rollins had seen your face and was looking up your name and address right now. He didn't seem to be following you at the moment though which was a small mercy.

"There are some motels by The Red Room," you shouted. "We can lay low there, figure out our next move." You felt Bucky nodded in agreement. He accelerated and made his way to the freeway.

" _It would be better if we got out of DC altogether,"_ you thought, _"I'll run it by him when we get off this fucking death trap."_ You kept your head buried in his back, the sudden drop in adrenaline made you realize just how close of a call that was. You didn't want that to happen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes
> 
> Oooooooo, we got some touches, intense eye contact, and PDA (albeit only for camouflage purposes but still). I have outlined many chapters already. However, I am not sure of my uploading schedule. I will try to keep it as regular as possible. 
> 
> Leave comments if you like the story so far! It would mean the world to me!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote from "Pray for Me" - Kendrick Lamar and The Weeknd


	3. Chapter Three

" _ **Oh, when life gets hard, I send a prayer**_

_**For this cross I have to bear and this smile I'm forced to wear** _

_**And I'm no good, no good, can't you tell?** _

_**Oh, if I could cast a spell, I would send you straight to hell"** _

~*~*~*~

**S.H.I.E.L.D. Triskelion. Early April 2014. **

" _All I'm saying is that Leia is more like Anakin than Luke is," you stated. "She has deep anger at the Empire for the suffering they bring. She gives absolutely no fucks if the galaxy accepts their rule because, come hell or high water, she will "bring peace and justice to her new Republic" whether they like it or not. Not only that but her leadership skills are unparalleled just like Anakin; she is one of the foremost leaders of the Rebellion at age 19. And did I mention she is the ultimate sassmaster? She has more Vader in her than Luke has in his pinky," she sipped her tea raising her eyebrows._

_Your office mate groaned. Rey was used to these passionate tirades of yours by now. This one had been directed at a visiting staff member who made the mistake of trying to explain Star Wars to you after noticing your Princess Leia and Padme Amidala figurines. The visitor stammered making up an excuse to leave with his proverbial tail between his legs. You chuckled and continued to nurse your tea._

" _You know, Y/N, I do believe you have scared off almost every eligible bachelor in this department who has tried to woo you," Rey laughed._

_You shrugged your shoulders, "It's not my fault that I know more than they do." You laughed, "Plus, I am perfectly happy spending time alone. A relationship with a narcissistic cheater will do that to a person."_

" _Facts are facts," Rey said knowingly._

_You turned your attention back to your monitors. Data from various S.H.I.E.L.D. teams were being analyzed simultaneously as well as your own data you gathered on a separate encrypted server. Old hacker habits died hard. You had stumbled upon some files in Russian regarding an operative or a program they referred to as "The Asset." It had intrigued you; you thought maybe it could be a lead to determine what exactly happened to your sister, Hunter. A notification dinged on your computer signaling the completion of an analysis on one of your programs, but before you could check, the PA system above your desk crackled to life._

> **" _Attention all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, this is Steve Rogers."_**

_You looked to Rey confused; she mirrored your expression. Last you had heard Captain America had gone rogue after the death of Director Fury._

> **" _You've heard a lot about me over the last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down and I think it's time you know the truth."_**

_You raised an eyebrow._

> **" _S.H.I.E.L.D. is not what we thought it was. It's been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The STRIKE and INSIGHT crew are HYDRA as well. I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you._**

_You heard Rey gasp._

> **" _They almost have what they want. Absolute control. They shot Nick Fury. And it won't end there. If you launch those Helicarriers today. HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way. Unless we stop them."_**

_So many emotions ran through your head. Shock. Fear. Betrayal. Anger. Mostly anger. With all of your covert analysis and, to put it bluntly, snooping, how could you have missed this?_

> **" _And I know I'm asking a lot. The price of freedom is high. It always has been. And it's a price I am willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not._**

_The crackle of the PA speaker died. Silence followed. You had never heard the place so quiet._

_Shots close by broke the silence. You jumped. Rey screamed. You moved to put your hand over her mouth and pulled her to the floor and under the desk. She looked at your pure panic in her eyes. You heard pounding steps in the hallway and screams in the distance._

_You whispered, "We have to get out of here, but we have to stay quiet." She nodded. You removed your hand from her mouth, and moved towards your desk grabbing your laptop, you had to protect your personal data analysis you had collected since arriving at S.H.I.E.L.D._

_A few keystrokes fired up a firewall and encryption program that would keep even the most seasoned programmer out, perks of using non-approved S.H.I.E.L.D. encryption software. You and a few of your hacker friends had developed it on a dare. You stashed the laptop under your desk's file cabinet, determined to come back at some point to retrieve it._

_You glanced at Rey who looked to be in shock. Her gaze was unfocused and she was hyperventilating. You shook her. "Rey! Rey! We have to go." She didn't move. You slapped her hard across the cheek. She looked at you suddenly, startled, and then nodded._

_You made a move to stand up, checking for threats within the immediate area. Your hand ghosted over your ankle as you did so confirming the presence of your firearm, you kept strapped to your ankle, hidden by your slacks. You grabbed hold of Rey's arm pulling her up with you. "We have to get out of here." The shots sounded further away than before. "Will make for the emergency exit and then the parking garage." Rey nodded._

_You made your way out into the hallway again checking for immediate threats. The hallway was clear. You turned to Rey and motioned her out the door. You turned and shut the office door locking it with your fingerprint; when you turned back you collided with Rey's petite form. Her arms were raised, her gaze locked with a man who had his gun drawn._

" _STOP!" the man ordered. "Give me access to your computers and your data!"_

" _I...I can't...I can't do that!" Rey stammered. "Not...Not without proper authorization!"_

" _Huh, alright," the man sighed resignedly and pulled the trigger. Rey fell back knocking you down. A small hole in the middle of her forehead trickled with blood. Her eyes wide in a perpetual state of surprise and fear._

" _NO!" you screamed bending over her body. Rey_ _had_ _been one of your first friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. and you had become very close over the past few years. She reminded you so much of your sister. Losing her was like losing Hunter all over again._

" _Now," purred the man as he moved to stand over you, "give me access to your computers and your data!" You sobbed still hunched over Rey's body. You moved your leg slightly to gain better access to your firearm. The man grabbed your hair and yanked, you gasped. "I won't ask again," he seethed._

_Suddenly, the building began to shake. Lights flickered and ceiling tiles fell. Distracted, the man let go of your hair and lowered his weapon. You made a move for your gun, clicking off the safety and placed your finger on the trigger. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Dave," you spat. The man turned back to you his face inches from the barrel. You pulled the trigger. Blood spattered over your face. It's coppery taste filled your mouth as the man fell over. You scrambled up and moved down the hallway glancing at your fallen friend once more. "I'm sorry," you whispered. Tears stung your eyes. You wiped your face. The building shuddered as you made your way to the emergency exit, gun drawn, and at the ready._

_~*~*~*~_

**Washington DC. April 2014.**

Since the escape from the Smithsonian, you had been on edge. You felt a weight in your chest but your heart would not stop pounding. You were jittery and hyper-vigilant. You sat in the stiff desk chair the cheap motel offered alternating bouncing your leg and twisting your hair around your fingers.

Going back to your apartment was out of the question. You had already remoted into your desktop from your phone and erased all of your hard drives with their included self-destruction code sequences, rendering your machine unusable and your data inaccessible. After writing down any contact information that may usable, you had Bucky crush your phone with his metal arm and then tossed it into a dumpster a few streets over. You had paid for one night with cash using the emergency $100 you kept in your purse. You and Bucky needed somewhere to hide and plan out your next move. As of this afternoon, you were on HYDRA's radar as well as Bucky; you needed to get out of DC.

"I think we should leave DC," you started once Bucky had checked the room for any surveillance equipment and had identified quick exits.

Bucky sat on the bed across from your chair he shook his head and made a move to say something. You held up your hand.

"Let me finish," You said simply. "HYDRA is almost now certainly going to come after me since Rollins saw me with you. I feel it would be unwise to split up now."

Bucky sighed looking you in the eye, "I can't ask you to do that. You've helped me so much already. I don't want to put you in more danger."

"It makes the most sense, Sarge," you said leaning forward resting your elbows on your knees. "I have a very specific skill set and I have access to information they may find useful. They want absolute control. Over everything and everyone. That is something no one should have. I'd rather die than have them use me."

Bucky gave a sharp breath through his nose and looked at the dingy carpet, "And they may use you to draw me out if they were to ever get their hands on you," Bucky said softly.

You almost hadn't heard him. Did he really think that highly of you or would him turning himself over have been out of guilt alone? You looked down shoving down your emotions. "High probability they would just kill me outright," you said running your hand through your hair smirking slightly. You paused. "I have connections in New York City; I know someone who can help us get new passports, IDs, and give us a place to lay low."

"Do you trust them?" asked Bucky raising his eyebrow questioningly. "I don't wa-"

"I do," you smiled slightly. "And trust me they can take care of themselves should HYDRA fuck with them."

Bucky nodded. "We'll leave tonight then," he said.

You nodded in agreement. You leaned back in your chair biting your lip. Thoughts racing. Could you actually leave without being detected? It seemed almost impossible these days. Cameras were everywhere, and even though most of the members scattered after the Uprising, after this afternoon's events, it seemed there will still some intact divisions of HYDRA. Bucky being the Winter Soldier may not be enough to get you out of the country.

"What is it?" Bucky asked.

You rubbed your forehead. "I can't help but feel like we are horrendously unprepared and outgunned. I mean," you reached down and pulled your Smith & Wesson M&P out of your purse, "I have this...but no extra ammo."

You handed the firearm to Bucky. He examined it closely. "Huh, I am more of a SIG Sauer P220 kinda guy, but this isn't terrible." He said handing it back to you. "Didn't take you for the gun-carrying type, doll."

You laughed slightly, "Yeah…I grew up in western Colorado, smack dab in the middle of the Rockies. My grandfather was a Marine veteran. He insisted me and my sister, Hunter learned how to shoot. 'These mountains are dangerous' he used to say, 'but not as dangerous as the rest of the world can be,'" you smiled. "I didn't like it, but knowing what he had been through in Korea and Vietnam, I didn't argue with him. I'm not the best shot though, that's for sure," your voice trailed off, "but I will do whatever it takes to protect myself and things I care about." Your thoughts wandered to the HYDRA agent you killed at the Triskelion and Rey. You took a deep breath shaking your head. "Anyway, I have a feeling we will need information and ways to access it down the road."

"Makes sense," Bucky agreed, "I feel the same. Where do you propose we get it?"

You smirked, you had an idea, "I don't think you are going to like it."

Bucky cocked his head to the side.

"We're going to need to go back to the Triskelion."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes:
> 
> For future reference, any and all events not taking place in the present or descriptions of nightmares, dreams or thoughts will be in italics. 
> 
> Also, who do you think they are going to see in New York???
> 
> Please comment if you are loving the story; I would really appreciate it!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> P.S. Leia is very much Anakin's clone, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise.
> 
> Beginning quote from "Straight to Hell" by Falling in Reverse


	4. Chapter Four

“ _ **You are a false prophet, a forsaker**_

_**We don’t believe in you** _

_**You have deceived** _

_**With every breath, you breathe.”** _

~*~*~*~

**Ruins of S.H.I.E.L.D. Triskelion. April 2014.**

You were right, Bucky did not like your plan in the slightest. But he eventually agreed that more firepower would be a good idea considering all you had was your pistol. That night, you and Bucky rode the death trap of a bike to the bank of Potomac River and parked it among some felled trees and bushes, trying to conceal it as much as possible.

~*~*~*~

**Washington DC. Earlier that Day.**

“ _I’ll need to get my laptop and some other Cybersecurity essentials to hide our tracks,” you said breaking a corner off your pop-tart. You had found a snack machine near the room and had used all your quarters to buy various snacks and drinks, unsure what Bucky liked. He was currently halfway through a bag of Lay’s Potato Chips. “I stashed my laptop in my office, it has all the files I gathered as well as the analysis and decryption programs I need.”_

_Agent Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow, had dumped seemingly all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s and HYDRA’s secrets onto the internet during the attack. When you went to access them for yourself via your desktop, you noticed many of the files remained encrypted._

“ _We can also make a stop at the technology and equipment floor. It was near my department,” you said._

_Bucky nodded and took a sip from his water bottle, “Luckily the Helicarrier didn’t completely destroy those floors. Getting in and out should be easy without too much rubble. No offense, doll, but you are due for a weapon upgrade.”_

_You flicked a crumb at him. “I like my gun,” you defended, “I think I’ll keep it.”_

“ _Your loss, doll.” Bucky snickered._

_You cocked your head. Like this, Bucky almost seemed like a normal well-functioning S.H.I.E.L.D. agent; someone who had an apartment, drinking buddies, and a cat or a girlfriend. He didn’t appear at all to be the infamous HYDRA assassin, the Winter Soldier, who was ruthless, emotionless, and dark. The loneliest people are the kindest. “The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do,” as Hunter used to say._

“Oh Sarge, what in the world did they do to you?”

_Bucky raised an eyebrow, “Your wheels are turning.”_

_You shook your head and opened a pack of Oreos, “I was just thinking about how I always wanted to snoop around the Technology and Equipment floors and labs, to see if it was like Q’s workspace in all the James Bond movies.” you laughed offering him a cookie._

_He smiled as he took a cookie from you. “What is James Bond?”_

“ _Don’t worry. We will work on your pop culture education once we are out of DC.”_

_~*~*~*~_

You and Bucky had made sure to wait until well into the night before venturing to the Triskelion. You didn’t want to risk being seen by some random driver or passerby. The rubble of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s former headquarters was dark and still. “Doesn’t seem to be heavily guarded,” you remarked as you crossed the intact bridge on foot.

“There are probably some people here though,” Bucky stated. “Too many things in that pile of concrete people want to get their hands on.”

“Like us,” you retorted.

“Exactly.”

The site was encircled by a chain-link fence. Bucky made easy work prying it apart with his metal arm. You let him take the lead and gave him your gun. “You’re a better shot than me,” you said, “and we only have so much ammo.” Bucky nodded checking over the gun before clicking the safety off.

With the power completely cut off to the site itself, you didn’t need to worry about security cameras. And any locked doors were easily taken care of again courtesy of Bucky’s metal arm. You navigated the dark hallways with a small pin light you kept in your purse.

After traversing a somewhat sketchy staircase, you arrived at your floor. Your hand hesitated above the knob. You swallowed hard. You had no idea what was waiting behind the door and in the hallway beyond. Was Rey’s body still there? You had no idea if recovery efforts had been halted or even started. To be confronted with her death scene again would be too overwhelming.

“Is it locked?” Bucky whispered.

You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice. You shook your head. “I just...needed a minute.”

“We don’t have much time.”

You sucked in a deep breath and nodded. You opened the door letting Bucky go ahead of you checking around corners. The hallway appeared as it normally did only a slight layer of dust covered the floor. Turning the final corner, you were relieved that there were no bodies in front of your old office door. All that remained, where the bloodstains. You stared at them, a lump in your throat forming.

“This it?” Bucky asked, turning to face you.

You blinked a few times, looking up at him. You cleared your throat, “It should still be locked.”

Bucky nodded and handed you the gun before making quick work of the locked door.

Your and Rey’s office had remained undisturbed. “ _A small mercy.”_ Not wanting to waste any more time in the place where everything had fallen apart, you quickly retrieved your laptop bag and the stashed laptop. Your eyes ghosted over your desk making sure you gathered everything you needed when they fell upon a small framed picture of you and your sister. You quickly removed the picture from the frame and pocketed it. You threw the bag across your shoulder and met Bucky back in the hallway, actively avoiding the bloodstains with your gaze, and made eye contact with Bucky. “Okay, let’s head to the Technology and Equipment level,” you said flatly.

Bucky held your gaze for a moment then reached out and squeezed your shoulder tentatively. You smiled slightly and nodded in gratitude.

_~*~*~*~_

Getting to the S.H.I.E.L.D. equipment labs required a bit more careful maneuvering. Holes in the floor and the ceiling were more frequent and at one point you were required to leap across a moderate gap in one of the stairwells. This area was closer to where the Helicarrier had collided.

When you made it to the lab, you noticed the doors were already open and the lab was in disarray. Bloodstains were smeared on the walls while bullet casings and glass littered the floor. You could hear the wind whistle through the shattered windows. Agents on both sides probably raided this lab to grab whatever weapons they could find. After making sure the area was secure, you and Bucky split up to find things you may need.

“We need to travel as light as possible so don’t grab anything too heavy or specialized,” Bucky cautioned picking up a gun and examining it.

“Copy that, Sarge” you affirmed scanning your surroundings. You spied a large black backpack, which appeared to match the description of what your grandfather would have called a “bug-out” bag. You walked over to the nearest case glancing over the contents, stacks of currencies from all over the world were lined up in neat rows. “ _Welp, this solves the money problem for now.”_ You grabbed the biggest stacks of US and EU currency and stuffed them in the deepest parts of the bag. You could always exchange it if you went anywhere else.

You continued to walk the edge of the room picking up various items and placing them in the bag: Extra ammunition for your pistol; A nano mask and case; Taser disks similar to those used by Black Widow; an agent Tactical suit; and Several compact medkits. You met Bucky toward the back of the room and gave him the bag. He had grabbed mostly weapons: a few SIGs, more ammo, and a sniper rifle.

As he broke down the sniper rifle and placed it in the bag. You examined the contents of the case in front of you picking up a small metal disk that imitated a bolt. “That’s a tracking disk,” Bucky noted, zipping up the pack. He placed it on his back.

You nodded, “Don’t think we will have much use for it though.”

Bucky made a move to say something else but quickly turned around. “Great,” he mumbled.

You furrowed your brow. “What is it? What-”

He motioned for you to be quiet. The lab was silent aside from the intermittent creaking of steel and concrete. Then you heard a small pop. Without warning, Bucky forced you down behind the center weapons case and covered you with his body shielding from the explosion of a flash-bang grenade.

“ _Shit. Shit. Shit.”_

Your ears rang but your sight remained as you had taken cover before the grenade went off. You shook your head a few times to try and get rid of it. Bucky stood and fired at the entrance of the lab.

“Fucking HYDRA,” you heard Bucky snap between shots, “They must have been tracking us since the museum, probably with one of those tracking disks.”

“We have to get out of here,” you panted, ducking every so often and more shots came your way.

“They’re blocking the only way in or out.”

You quickly looked around and noticed the shattered window that looked out onto the atrium below. You remembered seeing a grappling hook attached to a wristband in the center case, you reached up and grabbed one. “No, they’re not,” you said looking at the window.

Bucky snatched the grappling hook from you and placed it around his metal arm. He made eye contact with you. “You trust me?”

“Yes,” you breathed, noticing the dark blue ring around the ice blue of his iris for the first time.

“Hang on,” he said, suddenly lifting you up. Before you could react, he sprinted toward the open window and jumped out.

Your scream was cut short by your heart rising to your throat as you fell. You tightened your arms around Bucky’s neck and wrapped your legs around his waist burying your head in his neck. A ping of metal hitting metal. A grunt from Bucky. Your few seconds of free fall was ended with a harsh jerk. You nearly slide off but Bucky’s grip around you tightened, bruising your lower back and your right hip. You glanced down. The atrium floor was coming up fast but your descent was somewhat controlled by the grappling line. “Get ready to run,” Bucky strained. You uncurled your legs from around his waist keeping your knees loose. You hit the floor tucking and rolling. The wind slightly knocked out of you. Bucky deftly detached the cable and helped you up. Your heart pounded in your ears as you and Bucky made for the exit.

“We can’t take the bike,” Bucky said.

“We can try to take a car from the visitor parking lot,” you say slamming open the glass doors to the outside.

Out in visitor’s lot in front of the main lobby few cars were left undamaged. You ran for an older dark sedan. Bucky smashed the driver’s side window and unlocked the door tossing the go bag in the back seat. He then dove under the steering column and begin to hot-wire the car. You threw the laptop bag on the floorboard. Then noticed keys the sitting in the cupholder.

“ _Who still leaves their keys in the car these days?”_

“James!” you shouted. He looked up at you wires in his hands. You jingled the keys. He sighed shoving the wires aside, jumped up, and took the keys.

You slammed your door, looking around as you buckled your seat-belt. No sign of any HYDRA goons so far. They must be busy picking their way through the rubble. Tires screeched as you pealed out of the parking lot and over the bridge.

After you were a few miles away and on the I-95, your heart rate slowed, your breathing evened out, and your mind caught up to the events that transpired. You started to laugh. You laughed hard. _“Holy shit. What the fuck did I get myself into?”_ You continued to laugh uncontrollably. Bucky glanced at you concerned. His hair blowing around from the smashed window. You stare at him slightly mesmerized while you continued to giggle. “We flew out a fucking window!” You laughed even harder, tears rolling down your face. You took deep breaths to get control of yourself. “I’m sorry,” you gasped. “I just did not expect my day to go at all like it did today.” You wipe tears from your eyes turning back to look at Bucky. You noticed he was laughing too.

“Me either, doll,” he chuckled shaking his head. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be bruised and sore, but I’ll live.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“You can still back out, you know, Y/N.”

“Oh no, Sarge, you are not getting rid of me that easy. Pretty sure flying out of a window, stealing vehicles, and getting shot at bonds people in some way.”

“If you say so,” Bucky shrugged. “Where to?”

“Hell’s Kitchen,” you said with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes
> 
> Y'all really have no idea how badly I wanted to write, "You clung to him like a koala bear to a eucalyptus tree", but I restrained myself for the sake of my writing style. 
> 
> ALSO THAT SHOULDER SQUEEZE!!!!
> 
> Please leave all the lovely comments if you are enjoying the story as much as I am!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> P.S. The first-ever James Bond movies is an astronomical CRINGE fest and I highly recommend watching it if you are in need of a laugh. 
> 
> Beginning quote from Zealot - Gemini Syndrome


	5. Chapter Five

“ _ **There was a boy**_

_**A very strange enchanted boy** _

_**They say he wandered very far, very far** _

_**Over land and sea** _

_**A little shy and sad of eye** _

_**But very wise was he”** _

_~*~*~*~_

**Newark, New Jersey. April 2014.**

You managed to talk Bucky into stopping at an airport hotel in Newark, New Jersey right outside Manhattan citing the sun wasn’t even up, and most likely your contact was not even awake yet. Bucky didn’t appear fatigued, but he had been driving through the night. And, you had been awake for almost a full 24 hours. Both of you needed rest, if only for a few hours.

You sat against the headboard of one of the double beds staring blankly at the entertainment center; your eyes unfocused as you retreated deeper into your mind. Had it really only been 24 hours since you made coffee in your apartment? Since visiting the museum? It seemed like a lifetime ago. You had a strong suspicion that days such as yesterday would become more common if you continued to stay with Bucky. Could you handle it? Where you strong enough? The world had become so strange in the last few years. Aliens, superheroes, and demigods had made themselves known. Yet, your life had continued to remain relatively ordinary…until now. An extraordinary life is what you had wished for since you were a child. Now that it was literally in your face, did you still want it? Nothing was holding you back except your own hesitation and anxiety. The unknown was frightening; the known was comfortable.

There were also practical things to consider. You were certainly high on HYDRA’s hit list after yesterday’s events. To leave Bucky would mean becoming relatively unprotected once more. If HYDRA captured you, who knows what they would do to you.It would also mean he would be alone, again.

You had flipped through your files on The Winter Soldier while on the road. HYDRA viewed him as an object; an asset. They completely ignored the person inside, treating him like a machine. The brainwashing. The conditioning. The wiping of memories. Years of cryosleep. No control. No agency. No person should ever have those experiences.

You also couldn’t deny that you were drawn to him, in other ways. Your body said it loudly whenever he was near. Those tiny shocks whenever your hands touched. How easily your arms wrapped around one another at the museum. How you shivered when he whispered in your ear. He was attractive, dark, and mysterious. His eyes were enticing and all-encompassing.

You couldn’t leave him. Not now. You would never forgive yourself if you did. You didn’t want to leave him. Since that night in the alleyway, you felt as those your lives would be intertwined forever. In what way, you weren’t sure.

The sound of the door clicking shut jolted you out of your thoughts. A subtle heat crept up your neck. You pulled the collar of your sweater a little higher.

“All’s quiet,” Bucky announced as he moved into the room pulling off his hoodie and ballcap.

“Good,” you said running both hands through your hair before reaching over to empty the laptop bag onto the bed. You needed something to occupy your hands.

“You should sleep,” Bucky said as he lowered himself onto the other double bed.

“Not tired.” It wasn’t a lie; your thoughts were still racing. “I don’t think I have completely processed what happened yesterday. I need time to wind down. You sleep for now. I want to go through my computer, run a few diagnostics, and consolidate some files.”

“Are you sure?”

In your peripheral, you could see him eyeing you carefully. “Mhmm,” you hummed. “I’ll wake you in a couple of hours.”

A few moments of silence passed.

“Don’t be afraid to wake me up earlier if you need to.”

You nodded as you started your laptop’s boot-up sequence. “Sweet dreams, Sarge.”

~*~*~*~

By mid-morning, you felt your eyes get heavy with exhaustion. Even with the events of yesterday, your laptop had remained in perfect working order. As Bucky slept, you managed to put together a consolidated file on The Winter Soldier on a spare tablet. It wasn’t much, but you planned a full work-up on all files Black Widow had released on the internet once out of immediate danger.

You packed your bag carefully before padding to the bathroom. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You looked like shit. Your hair was tangled. Your face was dirty. The circles under your eyes were more prominent. You were sure you smelled.

You started the shower, you had paid for the room might as well use it. You removed your clothes and set them on the counter. You made a mental note to make a trip to the nearest big box store for at least some replacement underwear. The warm water relaxed the tension in your shoulders and neck. You needed this. You bathed and ran some conditioner through your hair to work out the knots. You added toiletries to your internal shopping list as you turned off the water.

You wiped the condensation from the mirror and eyed your reflection. The color had returned to your cheeks; you looked more relaxed. “Better,” you mumbled throwing your wet hair in a bun. You redressed in your jeans and tank top deeming your sweater too dirty to sleep in.

Entering the room, you noticed Bucky sitting up cleaning the guns he had taken from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s headquarters. “Good morning, Sarge,” you smiled. “Sleep well?”

“As can be expected,” he yawned. “Your turn.” he nodded to your bed.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” you pulled back the duvet. “Also, here I have this for you.” You waved the tablet at him.

“What’s this?”

“I consolidated all of my files on The Winter Soldier for you to review if you wanted.” He moved gun parts out of the way to make room for you to sit next to him. As you sat down, you couldn’t help but notice how nice he smelled. Gunpowder, steel, and musk. You cleared your throat. “You can find them here.” You said touching an icon on the screen which opened up to a library of various documents. Bucky tensed slightly at the sight of various pictures and newspaper headlines. Sensing his apprehension, you closed those folders.“But, if you don’t want to pull on that thread just yet,” you tapped another icon and opened the e-book reader. “I downloaded you some books: fiction, science, history, etc. I recommend _The Martian_ ; it’s one of my personal favorites.” You offered him the tablet.

“Interesting,” he eyed the device, fascinated.

“I still prefer paper books,” you mused moving toward your bed. “I love the smell.”

“Me too,” Bucky agreed. “ _The Martian_ , huh?”

“Mhmmm,” you hummed settling down. “Man gets left behind on Mars and has to figure out how to survive. It has some great one-liners and most of the science behind it is sound.” You closed your eyes. “Very well researched…”

“Sweet dreams, doll.”

~*~*~*~

A bright thin beam of sunlight streaming in through the small gap in the curtains woke you. You glanced at the clock – it was almost noon. You sat up and stretched glancing around the room. The go-bag had been packed and the tablet lay on the bed. Rubbing your eyes, you heard the door open.

“Sleep well?”

You blinked looking towards the voice, Bucky stood at the end of your bed with two cups of what smelled like coffee.

“Is that coffee?” you croaked, your voice still thick with sleep.

Bucky nodded handing you a to-go cup of steaming liquid. “I didn’t know how you liked it so I grabbed a bunch of what I think is sugar and these tiny milk pods.” He emptied out his pockets onto the nightstand between your beds.

You smiled as you eyed several different colored packets of various sweeteners, flavored creamers, and a few stirring straws. You picked up five packets of sugar and dumped them into your cup. “This is just what I needed,” you said stirring the coffee. “For future reference, I like it black with a shit ton of sugar.” You sipped the warm liquid with a smile.

“Good to know,” Bucky smiled.

“What about you? How do you take your coffee, Sarge? Just in case, I decide to return the favor one day.”

“Not really sure,” Bucky said absentmindedly stirring his coffee. “I think I took it black. During the war, things like sugar and milk were rationed so we were careful with what we used those things for.”

“You remembered more?” you asked curiously.

“Bits and pieces,” Bucky admitted. “Nothing too big, I think…I remember receiving my draft notice…hot dogs on Coney Island in the summer…dancing in jazz clubs…and always looking down alleys for someone.”

“That’s a start,” you mused.

“Yeah…”

Both of you were silent for a while. You got the impression that maybe he remembered more than he was letting on, but you didn’t want to pressure him to disclose something he wasn’t ready to. He had said he wasn’t sure if what he was remembering was real or imaginary. However, you wanted to help him in any way you could.

“Well we are headed into New York,” you stated. “The files that I gave you said you grew up in Brooklyn. I don’t know how much has changed since the 30s and 40s, but maybe if we went and walked around for a while something will stick out.”

“I think that would be a good idea,” Bucky nodded. “We can go after we meet with your contact.”

You nodded, “Speaking of which.” You downed the last of your coffee and dug out the scrap of paper that contained various contact details from your trashed cell phone. Using the hotel phone, you dialed a number.

“Hello?” came a cheerful voice.

“Hey, Trish, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N! Oh my god! It’s been so long since I heard from you! How have you been?” Trish exclaimed.

“I’ve been okay,” you minimized. “Things have been a little crazy.”

“I saw what happened to S.H.I.E.L.D. That’s so fucked up! I’m glad you made it out okay!”

“Yeah, me too. I am actually nearby. Is Jessica around?”

Trish was silent for a moment. “I haven’t spoken to Jess in a while. She felt she needed to get her life in order after what happened with Kilgrave. She’s opened her own private investigation business. I can give you her address if you need it. She should be home for the rest of the day.”

“I would really appreciate it, Trish. I need her help with something. If you aren’t busy, I can come and see you later.”

“Unfortunately, I have to leave tonight. I have a meeting with a radio producer in LA tomorrow to talk about expanding the reach of the radio show. Are you going to stick around New York?”

“I’m not sure,” you said eyeing Bucky, who had turned his attention back to the tablet. “I’ll keep you posted.”

“Sounds good. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you smiled sadly. “I’ll try to be better about keeping touch.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Trish gave you Jessica’s address and made you promise not to tell her where you got it. You agreed, not wanting to get in the middle of the adoptive sisters’ issues.

“She should be home for the rest of the day,” you said to Bucky as you finished writing down the address. “You ready to go now?”

“Sure,” Bucky said placing the tablet in the go-bag. “One question though.”

“Shoot.”

“What in the world is disco?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> I feel like Kylo Ren from The Last Jedi when I write sexual/romantic tension. "MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE!"
> 
> The names of the New York contact have been revealed! Whoop! I personally love Jessica Jones so much so I had to include her and Trish. 
> 
> Also, there is some contention as to if Bucky was drafted or enlisted voluntarily at least in the MCU. Canonically, Bucky's service number is 32557038. Historically, a service number beginning with a 3 indicates that a person has been drafted. And around 20% of service members were drafted in World War II. However, in CA: TFA and in CA: TWS, it is said that Bucky enlisted. For this story, I am going to go with the idea that he was drafted and never wanted to be involved in the war at all, unlike Steve. 
> 
> Please comment if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger!
> 
> P.S. The Martian is one of my comfort books and since Bucky loves science I figured he would appreciate it. 
> 
> Beginning quote from "Nature Boy" by Nat King Cole.


	6. Chapter Six

“ _ **Is it okay I'm not okay?**_

_**I don't sleep too much these days** _

_**And I hate being awake when the sun's out** _

_**Lock my door and shut the blinds** _

_**They can't see my bloodshot eyes** _

_**I got habits I can't hide in the light”** _

~*~*~*~

**Hell’s Kitchen, NYC. April 2014.**

You and Bucky rode the NJ Transit Train into Manhattan after dumping the car in the Newark Airport Parking Lot. Despite the convenience, a car with Maryland plates and a broken driver's side window was bound to draw attention at some point. You both agreed to leave it behind and use public transportation for the time being.

You had been to New York a fair amount of times over the years to visit Jessica and Trish ever since you had met at a record label networking event in 2010 while you were still in college. Due to that, you were familiar with the subway systems so you knew what trains to take to Hell's Kitchen.

"So who exactly are we meeting?" Bucky asked as you walked up to a grimy apartment building.

"Jessica Jones, she's a private investigator and one of my good friends," you said walking up with steps and into the building.

"And how can she help us?"

"She has lots of connections, especially with her line of work. She should be able to get us passports and IDs so we can travel unhindered. She won't be cheap though, but we have S.H.I.E.L.D. to help out with that."

"Got it," Bucky said pressing the button to the elevator.

"Also one thing I should mention, just in case," you advised as the elevator dinged and the doors opened, "She has powers."

Bucky cocked his head curiously, "Powers?"

You nodded as the doors closed. "She has super strength and she can technically fly."

Bucky's eyes widened. "Shit, I'm out of it for a while and it seems like everyone's got powers of some kind." He shook his head in disbelief, "How?"

"No idea," you shrugged. "I don't think even she knows the full story."

The elevator doors opened revealing a dark hallway lined with flimsy doors. You and Bucky made your way to the end of the hall to the only door with a frosted glass window. You knocked. A few moments passed with no answer. You knocked louder.

"Jess, it's Y/N," you shouted.

A crash could be heard from inside the apartment followed by several expletives. You smiled slightly; Jessica had the mouth of a sailor. Her mouth put your grandfather's to shame.

"The office is closed!" shouted a voice from inside.

"Jessica, it's Y/N. Let me in." You heard rustling and then another small crash.

"Ah, fuck!" came the voice, closer this time. The door then swung open revealing a bleary-eyed Jessica Jones. "Y/N?" she said blinking as if to clear her vision.

"Long time no see, Jewel," you answered.

"Fuck, don't call me that," she said taking a swig of whiskey from the bottle she held. Her eyes traveled from you to Bucky. "Who's the muscle?"

"We need your help, Jess."

Jessica stood in the doorway for a moment internally debating on whether or not to let you in before opening the door wider. "Come on in." She gestured inside. Her living room had been turned into an office complete with a large desk and two chairs which sat facing it. Her laptop was open and humming away quietly. You noticed some holes in the sheetrock and several empty whiskey bottles in the trash can by the desk. You and Bucky followed Jessica to the kitchen where she finished the rest of her whiskey before tossing the bottle in the trash. She grabbed another bottle, opened it, and took another swig.

"How did you find me?" Jessica asked sitting at the kitchen table. You and Bucky joined her.

"I have my sources," you said vaguely.

"So Trish told you."

"How have you been?"

"Making it. Liquor helps." She took another sip, "You?"

"About the same," you replied. "Of course my tolerance for liquor is not on par with yours."

"Lucky you," she said with a tilt of her head. "So, you going to tell me why you brought the Winter Soldier to my house." She pointed to Bucky. "He's been all over the news."

Bucky stiffened. You placed your hand on his arm. He relaxed slightly. "This is James Barnes. That's why we're here," you said, "Since you have been watching the news, I'm assuming you know who and what HYDRA is." Jessica shrugged and gestured for you to continue. "We need documents to travel, passports and IDs. I know you have connections."

Jessica was silent for the moment. She took another swig of the whiskey. "I can get you what you need, but it will take time."

"How much time?" Bucky asked leaning forward.

"He speaks," Jessica said raising her eyebrow.

"Jess," you warned, crossing your arms.

"What?" she said innocently. You gave her a look. She sighed, "Give me 24 hours. You're lucky I don't have a case right now."

"24 hours works," you said. "We have a few errands to run in the meantime."

Jessica nodded. "I'm going to need photos of you for passports and IDs. I'm assuming you will want an American passport and a passport for one of the countries in the European Union? Fake names too?"

You looked to Bucky, who nodded. "Whatever you can get us," he said.

"Excellent," Jessica stood up. "Let me grab my grab my camera." She moved into her office area.

Bucky caught your eye. "She's a good friend?" he hissed.

"She's been through a lot," you answered. "I'll explain later."

Jessica returned, fiddling with the settings on her camera. "Okay, you're up, big guy." Bucky stood removing his cap. "Stand against that wall and keep a neutral expression." She snapped a few photos until she was satisfied with the clarity then turned to you. "Your turn."You stood against the wall. Again Jessica took a few shots until she was satisfied with the outcome. She sat down and returned to her whiskey. "So you going to tell me the story of how you two teamed up or am I going to have to guess?" she asked.

"She found me in a trash pile behind her work," Bucky said looking to you. "Woke me up from a nightmare and offered to help."

"How romantic," Jessica deadpanned.

"Jesus Christ," you mumbled rubbing your brow trying to hide the heat in your cheeks. Bucky put his hand on your knee sending a slight jolt of electricity up your spine. He gave you a soft smile, but let his hand rest there.

"Y/N was always the altruistic one," Jessica said leaning back in her chair.

"I don't know, Jess, sometimes you had me beat," you reflected.

Jessica snorted, "Me? That's hilarious." Taking another swig of her whiskey before capping the bottle and moved to put it back in a kitchen cabinet. "Meet me outside Luke's this time tomorrow, you know the bar in East Village?"

"I remember," you said standing up. Bucky followed suit. "How much do we owe you?"

Jessica waved her hand as if batting your question away. "Don't worry about it. The guy I know owes me a favor anyway."

"And you say you're not altruistic," you teased walking toward the door.

"Fuck off," she breathed a laugh, opening the door.

You smiled. "Use my encrypted email to update me if anything changes."

"Will do," she said closing the door.

~*~*~*~

**Brooklyn Bridge. NYC. April 2014.**

You and Bucky picked up sandwiches from a bodega and made your way to the Brooklyn Bridge in an attempt to trigger some of Bucky's memories.

"So Jessica is...interesting," Bucky said carefully.

"She's a bit of bitch; it's okay to say it" you laughed, picking a pickle out of your sandwich. "Her heart's in the right place though."

"You said she's been through a lot; what happened?"

"After the Battle of New York in 2012, Jessica toyed with the idea of using her powers to help others and become a superhero. That's why I called her, Jewel." Bucky nodded. You continued, "About a year ago, she caught the attention of a man named Kilgrave. Like her, he had powers. But instead of them manifesting physically, he could make people do anything he wanted. Literal mind control. Just had to give an order. He was intrigued by her powers and kept her under his control for months. According to Trish, he took advantage of her in almost every possible way... Anyway, she somehow managed to break free from his control. No idea how. And if you can believe it, the fucker got hit by a bus and died."

Bucky watched the ferries traverse the Hudson River. "Seems we have something in common," he murmured.

You nodded, "Yeah..."

Bucky took a bite of his sandwich. "What happened in 2012? You've mentioned the Battle of New York a couple of times."

You hesitated a moment, biting into your own sandwich. You were wary of bringing up anything to do with Steve Rogers, not wanting to trigger any bad memories or flashbacks. He didn't exactly react well to the Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian. But, he deserved to know exactly what type of world he had woken up in. "It's going to sound crazy," you said.

Bucky snorted. "We've been chased by a super-secret Nazi organization for the past two days and we were just talking about people with powers of flight and mind control."

"Fair point," you chuckled. "Long story short, the demigod Loki opened an inter-dimensional portal to unleash aliens called the Chitauri upon the Earth in an effort to take over the world and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Avengers Initiative stopped him. Lots of damage and lots of people died."

Bucky was silent for a moment before bursting out into laughter. He laughed long, hard, and genuinely. At first, you were slightly shocked, but his laugh was infectious and soon you were laughing too. It was nice to hear his laugh, you would try your hardest to make it happen more often.

"Dear God," Bucky said his laughter dying down. "You weren't kidding, doll."

You nodded. "The world's a different place, Sarge."

"When I thought about the future, I thought I would get flying cars and Smell-O-Vision," Bucky said. "Looks like the Stark Expo was wrong about a few things."

"Stark Expo?" you asked.

"I remember taking a couple of girls to The Stark Expo in 1943. Not as dates, they were actually more into each other." He chuckled. "I would take them out so they could be together without getting harassed. That sort of thing was frowned upon back then..." He shook his head. "Anyway, flying cars and Smell-O-Vision were among the exhibits there. We went out dancing afterward...after I caught...trying to..." His voice trailed off as he looked off into the distance.

Noticing his slight distress and without thinking, you placed your hand on his cheek turning his face to yours. "Hey," you said softly. You rubbed his cheekbone with your thumb, "You remembered something. That's great. Coming to New York was the right call." He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. You both sat that way for a few moments, offering what comfort you could give just by your presence and your touch. Being this close felt natural, easy. His hand moved to cover yours, squeezing it.

"Thank you," he whispered, opening his eyes.

You held his gaze, taking a deep breath. His vulnerability apparent behind his eyes, but something else too. Hope? Tenderness? Wonder? You couldn't name it, and at that moment you didn't care. You smiled, "Anytime."

He cleared his throat. You let your hand fall away from his face, slightly disheartened by the sudden distance you created. "We should find somewhere to be for the night," Bucky suggested. He stood up and tossed his sandwich wrapper in a nearby trashcan. "We can go to Brooklyn tomorrow after we meet with Jessica." He offered his hand to help you up.

You nodded, taking it. "Sounds like a plan, Sarge."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes:
> 
> "I got a fever and the only thing that can cure it is more physical contact!"
> 
> Also (probably) an unpopular opinion, Kilgrave is perhaps the scariest villain in the MCU. 
> 
> Please comment if you are loving the story or have any feedback! I would greatly appreciate it!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote from the song "Vices" by Mothica.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Slight sexual violence and implied/attempted sexual assault

“ _ **I**_ _ **think I'm going nowhere like a rat trapped in a maze**_

_**Every wall that I knock down is just a wall that I replace** _

_**I'm in a race against myself I try to keep a steady pace** _

_**How the fuck will I escape if I never close my case?”** _

  
  


~*~*~*~

**East Village. NYC. April 2014.**

Rain pattered on the awning over the entrance to Luke’s bar. You flipped up the collar of your new black trench coat as the wind blew the rain sideways. After finding a hotel, you and Bucky found your way to a department store and purchased new clothes. _“I will never take clean underwear for granted again,”_ you thought. You noticed Bucky checking his watch for the 10th time in the past five minutes.

“She’ll be here,” you assured.

“She’s five minutes late,” Bucky expressed.

“She’ll be here,” you asserted, “Don’t worry.” The wind picked up again and you scooted closer to Bucky. During your review of the Winter Soldier files last night, you discovered Zola’s version of the Super Soldier Serum much like Erskine’s serum made Bucky’s metabolism burn faster, and therefore his temperature was higher than normal. He was like a space heater.

“Cold, doll?” he smirked.

“This damn rain makes it worse.”

He chuckled softly. “Hopefully it will stop by the time we get to Brooklyn,” Bucky said looking up at the clouds.

“Where do you want to go first?” you asked.

“We could try to find my old apartment building. See if it’s still standing.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

You heard footsteps approach. Bucky’s hand automatically went to the waistband of his jeans where he kept one of the SIG-Sauer P226, he had taken from the Triskelion. You turned and noticed raven hair sticking out from under a hoodie and an iconic black leather jacket. You touched Bucky’s arm, stilling his movements.

“You’re late,” you smirked as the figure made their way under the awning.

Jessica pushed back her hood and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Had to make sure the documents were up to par,” she sniped. She pulled a manila envelope out from under he jacket and handed it to you.

You looked inside, noting four ID cards and four passports. You pulled out a passport; your new name was Leia Antillesand you were from Chicago, LA. _“_ _Points for the Star Wars reference.”_ You took out a European passport, noting the nationality as Romanian. Opening it to find that Bucky’s new name was Sergei Stanislav. You handed the packet to Bucky for his inspection.

“I had them give you the same last names on for both sets of documents. It should make it somewhat easier for you to travel together, you can come up whatever backstory you want” Jessica stated.

You nodded, “Thanks, Jewel.”

“What have I told you about calling me that?” Jessica rolled her eyes and crossed her arms across her chest.

You ignored her, “I have something for you.” You fished a small flash drive out of your laptop bag along with several one hundred dollar bills. You placed the drive and money in Jessica’s hand. “I’ve hit a dead-end with my sister’s case. You’re the best investigator I know; if anyone can crack it, it’s you. Just think of it as a case to work on in your downtime.” It killed you to admit it, but at the moment you were not able to devote your time to working through leads relating to your sister’s death. But, to leave it alone completely would feel like a betrayal. Jessica was aware of the situation; it had been one of the main reasons you had bonded in the first place. The loss of loved ones was a strong shared experience.

Jessica nodded solemnly, pocketing the drive before pulling you into a quick hug, “I’ll do my best,” she murmured.

“I know you will; there is no one I trust more with it.”

“Thank you, Jessica,” Bucky smiled placing the envelope in your laptop bag that hung on your shoulder.

“No need to thank me, big guy,” Jessica shrugged, “Just promise me you’ll take care of her.” She gave you a light shove. “She can be a bit reckless.”

Bucky looked to you and smiled softly, “I will.”

“Good, because if you don’t, I’m coming for your kneecaps, soldier boy,” she smiled wickedly.

You sighed, “Really, Jess?”

Jessica held up her hands, “Trish would say the same thing.”

“Speaking of Trish, give her a call sometime, Jess. She’s really worried about you. You don’t have to be alone you know,” you urged.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know” Jessica dismissed pulling up her hood and began to walk backward away from you. “I’ve got to go; I have a meeting with a new client. I’ll email you if I find anything, Y/N.” You gave a slight wave as she disappeared around the corner.

“I worry about her sometimes,” you mumbled.

“I know you do,” Bucky affirmed. “Come on,” he took your hand, “let’s head on to Brooklyn.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Brooklyn. NYC. April 2014.**

The rain continued to fall as you and Bucky made your way through Brooklyn. The gray sky dulled the colors of the brownstones. The high-pressure sodium street lights cast an eerie orange glow as they reflected off the slick pavement. Although it was only early afternoon, the sidewalks were almost bare with the weather having driven most pedestrians inside.

“You recognize anything?” you asked tilting your umbrella out of the way to look up at various buildings.

“Everything looks so different now,” Bucky replied. “Some of the streets don’t have the same names anymore.”

“It’s been over 70 years, Sarge, I wouldn’t expect to stay too much the same.”

“I guess it wouldn’t,” Bucky sighed stopping in front of a small bakery. He looked defeated.

You bit your lip. You had an idea; you just weren’t sure if it was advisable. You knew Steve’s old apartment was still standing. While Bucky had been in the shower last night, you had done some research. Upon her return from the European front of World War II, Peggy Carter bought Steve’s old apartment and eventually the whole building. As far as you could tell, she had donated it to the local historical society in 2012 where it was preserved and turned into a state historical site. You hadn’t shared this information with Bucky because you wanted to see how much he could remember on his own without reminders of Captain America. But, at this point, it was clear that wasn’t working. It made sense that his memories of Brooklyn would heavily involve Steve Rogers. You sighed.

“I have an idea,” you offered. “I think it may work if you wanted to try it.”

Bucky looked up. “What is it?”

“What if we tried Steve’s old apartment?”

Bucky was silent for a moment. “I doubt it’s still there,” he murmured.

“…It is,” you said quietly. “It’s been turned into a museum showcasing tenement living.”

“I don’t know,” Bucky sighed, his voice tight.

“It’s up to you,” you offered. Regarding his recovery, you started to make a point to give him choices, no matter how small of a decision, to remind him he was the one fully in control. You would move at whatever pace he wanted. You moved to stand next to him and took his hand in yours, giving it a small squeeze.

He squeezed your hand back and took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said, “Where to?”

You took out your tablet and pulled up a map of Brooklyn. The tenement building was in the English Kills neighborhood which is now East Williamsburg. Checking your location, you observed you were in Brooklyn Heights or Downtown Brooklyn. Your face fell slightly when you noted the distance. “We’ve got a walk ahead of us,” you said looking to Bucky. He raised an eyebrow. “A little over 4 miles,” you frowned.

Bucky snorted, “That’s nothing, doll. You wanna know how many miles per day the 107th marched in Italy?”

“Did it involve a walk uphill both ways in the snow, old man?” you retorted.

“Oh, you wound me.” Bucky placed his hand on his chest and stumbled backward. You rolled your eyes. “Wait, you grew up in the mountains; didn’t you ever go hiking?”

“It’s not the same,” you insisted.

Bucky chuckled and offered you his arm, “Come on, I’ll carry you if you get tired,” he teased.

  
  


_~*~*~*~_

  
  


It was early evening when you arrived at the tenement building, the gray sky darkened as the sun set. The older architecture made it stand out slightly from the surrounding buildings. It appeared to be well-preserved and well-cared for; it wasn’t dingy or grimy. The fire escapes looked to be freshly painted. You dropped your hold on Bucky’s arm, giving him as much distance as he needed, just as you did at the Smithsonian. You observed a metal plaque which adorned the side of the building which read:

> **_Rogers Tenement Building: Aside from housing numerous families who worked in the surrounding factories, this building is also the former home to Captain Steven Grant Rogers and his mother, Sarah Rogers from 1918 to 1943. Purchased by Margaret Elizabeth “Peggy” Carter, first Director of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division (S.H.I.E.L.D.) in early 1950, it was then donated to the Brooklyn Historical Society in 2012._ **

You ascended the steps toward Steve’s old apartment. Halfway up the flight of stairs you turned and noticed Bucky stood at the base of them. He hadn’t moved. Recognition flooded his features but also sadness. You made your way down and stood next to him.

“I’ve walked up those steps numerous times, in all kinds of weather, in various different circumstances, but always to see him,” he recalled. “It’s strange to be back here after all this time, almost like nothing has changed.” His eyes were unfocused. “I remember walking him back here after his mother passed. She worked as a nurse in a tuberculosis ward; it eventually caught up with her. We were so young, just out of high school. I tried talking him into coming to stay with me and my family, ‘just until you get back on your feet’ I told him,” He chuckled and shook his head. “He was always so independent, so stubborn; he tried to join the Army at least 3 times. He wanted so badly to serve.” Shame crested his features. “…I didn’t…” You touched his arm softly, hoping to offer some form of reassurance. “I admired him so much that I couldn’t bear to disappoint him. So when I was drafted in ‘43, I pretended to be excited and put on all this bravado, but I was absolutely terrified.” His voice was brittle, as if he would shatter into a million pieces if he said another word.

“Your loyalty and devotion are what’s admirable, Bucky,” you said, “Steve was incredibly lucky to have you as a friend.”

“I was lucky to have him,” Bucky replied.

You nodded in agreement. Instantly, you were knocked forward into Bucky as sharp pain exploded just below the right side of your ribcage. You gasped; your head spun. You struggled to remain conscious, the adrenaline pulsing through your veins fought to keep you awake. You heard more shots ring out through the area. Your feet dragged across the concrete. You felt yourself being propped up against a brick wall. You drew many deep sharp breaths in through your nose. Faintly, you heard your name being called. Bucky’s face appeared in front of you. You closed your eyes and shook your head to clear the fogginess of shock.

“Tactical suit,” you croaked, swallowing hard. “It’s nothing.”

You heard multiple pounding footsteps on the concrete heading in your general direction. “How many?” you asked reached for your gun you kept strapped to your ankle, wincing in pain as you did so.

“At least ten HYDRA agents,” Bucky said firing a few shots around the corner. “Maybe more.”

You nodded, “They must have been observing places that they thought you may go after your escape. Can’t believe we didn’t think of that.” Bucky nodded in agreement. You moved to stand up, wincing as you did so, and he moved to stop you. You shook your head, cocking your gun. “Slight bruising,” you stated, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Come on, I’ll cover you.” Bucky stared at you for a moment and then nodded.

You both rounded the corner. Bucky charged towards the group using his metal arm to deflect oncoming bullets. If he could close the distance, the guns wouldn’t be as effective. _“21 feet,”_ you thought, _“That’s all he needs.”_ You sighted those furthest from Bucky. There was a high probability that they had bulletproof vests, but aiming for center mass was the best chance you had for incapacitating them until Bucky could reach them. You made careful shots until you became more comfortable with the weapon, increasing your speed with each shot. You were somewhat surprised at your accuracy. It wasn’t perfect; but better than expected.

As you went to reload, you felt a hand grab your hair and yank your head back. You gave a cry of pain, losing your grip on your gun in the process. “Fuck, what is it with you HYDRA goons and hair-pulling?” you hissed gripping the hand that held your hair, trying to weave your fingers through theirs to loosen the hold. The agent's arm wound around your waist holding you tight against him.

“Aw, you’d think the Asset’s piece of ass would be into that sort of thing,” the agent’s voice sneered in your ear. “Maybe after we put your boyfriend’s brain back in the blender, I’ll educate you.” You thrashed against him. His grip on your head made it impossible for you to smash in his nose or turn your body. You quickly fumbled for one of the taser disks you placed in your bra. However, the agent knocked your hand away sending the disk flying. You continued to struggle. He laughed cruelly using his free hand to roam your body, slithering in between your thighs then toward the waistband of your pants. You kicked wildly. One of your kicks made contact with his knee breaking his hold as he stumbled backward. You fell forward lunging for your gun, your wrist pinching painfully in the process as you caught yourself. You heard a whistling noise as you flipped over gun drawn. A soft thud sounded as an arrow buried itself in Jack Rollins’ neck. He gave a soft “oomph” before collapsing to the ground.

“Fancy seeing you here, Agent L/N!” a voice called from down the alleyway.

“Late to the party, as usual, Barton,” you quipped cradling your wrist against your chest as you stood up. You had lost sight of Bucky in your struggle with Rollins. You turned swiftly and found him dispatching the last HYDRA agent. You ran to him and called his name. He turned to you, eyes wide. You collided together in an embrace.

“Are you okay?” he breathed.

“I’m fine,” you panted. “I think my wrist might be broken.” Bucky pulled away, searching your face for more injuries. “I’m fine, I promise.” You noticed Bucky tense and raise his gun. You turned back and noticed Clint had his bow drawn. You pushed Bucky’s arm down. “Don’t, he’s a friendly.” Bucky looked to you for confirmation. You nodded. He placed the gun in the waistband of his jeans. You motioned for Clint to do the same. He placed the arrow back in his quiver and walked over, picking his way through the bodies of the HYDRA agents.

“Agent Clint Barton,” Clint stated, sticking his hand out to Bucky.

Bucky eyed the outstretched hand warily before taking it. “Sergeant James Barnes.”

“Good to meet you, Barnes,” Clint replied. He turned to you, “What in the hell have you gotten yourself into this time, L/N?’

“As much as I would like to answer that question, we need to get off the streets,” you advised. “Three people surrounded by a plethora of dead people isn’t a good look for anyone.

“She’s right,” Bucky said looking around.

“Always is,” affirmed Clint. “Come on, I have a Quinjet parked in the Navy Yard.” He started down the alley.

You moved to follow, but a new wave of pain radiating from your back caused your knees to give out. You gave a strangled cry grasping your side. The sudden drop in adrenaline made your body more aware of the pain caused by the earlier gunshot. Your hand felt wet and sticky. The smell of copper cut through the air. Your head swam. Spots clouded your vision.

“Y/N!” Bucky gasped. You felt his hands on your upper arms.

“What happened?” Clint asked.

“She was shot,” Bucky said, “They ambushed us.”

“Slight bruising,” you minimized in between deep breaths. “Tactical suit.”

“Bruising, my ass. I’ve got medical supplies in the Quinjet. We need to check to see if she is bleeding internally,” Clint said.

Bucky nodded. He helped you to a sitting position. You winced, squeezing your eyes shut. “Put your arms around my neck,” Bucky said softly.

"But, I'm not tired, Sarge," you quipped halfheartedly. He gave you a stern look. You obeyed, Bucky lifted you, placing one arm under your knees and one around your back. You whimpered at the movement.

“Fucking HYDRA,” you groaned. “I really liked this jacket.” You heard him chuckle. Your head rested against his broad chest. He was so warm. His comforting scent filled your nostrils as you lost consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: 
> 
> So much happening in one chapter! So many references! So much fluff! 
> 
> There are many headcanons I have come to accept surrounding the MCU; one is the fact that Peggy bought Steve's apartment when the war ended. It just makes me happy for some reason. I couldn't find any reference to the actual neighborhood Steve's first apartment was located in; so, after some research regarding 1940s Brooklyn, I chose the English Kills neighborhood. Thank you 1940snewyork.com! 
> 
> To have a friendship like Bucky and Steve is the ultimate goal in my life. If you already have one of those, I am wholeheartedly jealous of you. 
> 
> Also out of all the Avengers, I would trust Clint Barton with all my secrets. 
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos if you are enjoying the story as much as I enjoy writing it! I appreciate any and all feedback!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote from "Popular Monster" by Falling in Reverse.


	8. Chapter Eight

_“ **Tell me what else can I do**_

_**What more have I left to prove?** _

_**That I am what you need** _

_**Still, I will hold on to your heart** _

_**Through the chaos and the dark** _

_**When your eyes fail to see”** _

  
  


_~*~*~*~_

**Brooklyn Navy Yard. NYC. April 2014.**

Bucky followed closely behind Barton as they stealthily made their way to what Barton referred to as the “Quinjet.” After weaving their way in and out of various crowded construction sites, Bucky observed what appeared to be aircraft at the edge of one of the dry docks. “ _That thing looks like a tin can,”_ he thought, slowing down slightly. A slight whimper came from his arms. He looked down at you. The color had drained from your face and your breathing was rapid. He picked up his pace; he wouldn’t lose anyone else on his account. He didn’t want to be responsible for hurting anyone else.

As they approached, the jet’s engines ignited, adjusting the wingtips. The rear hatch lowered to the ground. Clint jogged up the ramp with Bucky close behind. “Put her on the table, elevate her feet if you can, she may be in shock.” Clint ordered as he jogged to the cockpit, “I’m going to take off; I’ll be back to help as soon as I put in the coordinates.”

Bucky gingerly sat you on the table, removing your trench coat now sporting a huge hole near the waist and your laptop bag. The jacket of the Tactical Suit looked undamaged. He unzipped it and carefully removed it from your shoulders. He knew you wouldn’t want it damaged in any way, not after the trouble both of you went through to get it. Only then did he notice you had only worn a bra underneath the jacket. In an attempt to be respectful, he averted his eyes. But for a split second, he couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful he thought you were. He gently laid you down on the table, noting how soft and smooth your skin was. He bunched up your trench coat and placed it under your feet.

The floor shuddered beneath him as he reached up tugging an oxygen mask down from the ceiling. He gently brushed your hair out of your face before placing a mask over your nose and mouth. The shuddering ceased as Clint made his way back into the main cabin, placing his bow and quiver into a locker marked “Barton.”

“Whoa, she wasn’t kidding about the Tactical Suit,” Clint marveled, examining the suit’s jacket

“Yeah, we kinda took it from the Triskelion,” Bucky confessed.

Clint cocked an eyebrow, “Last I checked that place was crawling with HYDRA agents.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t without incident,” Bucky smirked, “it was her idea.”

“Of course, it was.” Clint snorted. “Let’s see the damage.”

“She took the hit in the back on her right side. Help me turn her over.” Clint and Bucky gingerly turned you over on your stomach, making sure the oxygen mask stayed in place. A bright red welt the size softball looked angry against your skin. The bruise that would result from this would be a nasty one. A laceration the size of a quarter was deep with the blood already clotting around it.

“Son of bitch,” Clint breathed.

“Must have been a high caliber round probably from a sniper rifle,” Bucky said inspecting the wound.

“The problem is whether or not she is bleeding internally. The third drawer has antibiotic syringes. Inject one in her upper arm. I’ll scan for any internal injuries.”

Bucky rifled through the drawer and grabbed a syringe. He looked to Clint for confirmation before prying off the cap and injecting it into your upper arm.

Clint grabbed a portable ultrasound and gently ran the probe along your injury. He eyed the tablet carefully for a moment. “Well, good news, no internal bleeding,” he replaced the probe, “She got lucky. We will need to keep an eye on it though.” Bucky breathed a sigh of relief, tension leaving his shoulders. Clint smiled, he grabbed another syringe and injected it into your other arm. “Pain meds, it’s gonna hurt like a bitch when she wakes up.” He handed Bucky a suture kit. “You good to stitch her up?”

“I can do it,” Bucky nodded, taking the kit, drawing a stool near the table to sit down.

“I need to make a quick call; I’ll bring you back an ice pack.”

Bucky nodded. “Can you see if you have an extra shirt? She is going to be pissed if she wakes up in her underwear.”

“Sure thing,” Clint chuckled, “Antiseptic wash, bandages, and gauze are in the second drawer.”

Bucky carefully cleaned the wound, just as you had done for him. He then made careful tight sutures. His mother had worked two jobs, so she didn’t always have the energy to mend his or his sister’s clothing. So, he had taught himself how to sew. He was meticulous, especially with his sister’s clothes, and tried his best to keep them looking new. He was somewhat startled by the appearance of a new memory without a trigger, but it seemed genuine. As he made the last stitch, he admired his handiwork. “ _Not my best work_ ,” he thought. You would have a scar; hopefully, it wouldn’t be too noticeable. However, something told him you wouldn’t mind having a battle scar. “It would make a good story someday,” he could almost hear you say. He placed some gauze over the stitches and then wrapped bandages around your waist a few times.

As Bucky finished securing the bandage, Clint returned with a t-shirt and an ice pack. “I grabbed this from Nat’s locker. She won’t miss it.” He helped Bucky turn you back over. Your color was back; Bucky removed the oxygen mask. Both men lifted you into a sitting position where Bucky gingerly slipped the t-shirt onto your body before laying you back down on the table on top of the ice pack to calm the swelling. Clint grabbed a nearby blanket and draped it over you. Covered with a blanket, you looked as if you were only sleeping. Your features were soft, mouth slightly agape. Your breathing was even. Bucky stared at you, moving a strand of hair out of your face. His metal thumb grazed across your cheekbone tenderly. “ _Sweet dreams, gorgeous,”_ he thought.

Clint put the medical supplies away with a smirk. “Come on, Romeo,” he teased, “let’s leave her be. She’ll call out if she wakes up.” Bucky blushed and nodded following Clint to the cockpit.

The sky was dark. The full moonlight reflected off the scattered clouds as they flew by, He could make out the lights of a city below. “Where are we headed?” Bucky asked, taking a seat on one of the pilot couches.

“A safe-house,” Clint answered, offering Bucky a bottle of water. “We’ll be there in about an hour or so.” Bucky tensed slightly. “Don’t worry, it’s not S.H.I.E.L.D. associated. No one will know you are there,” Clint assured, noting his discomfort.

“So you know who I am?”

“Of course, you’re all over the news. Plus, I saw you blocking gunshots with your hand. Kinda a dead giveaway.”

Bucky huffed a laugh.

“Also, Natasha told me about her encounter with The Winter Soldier and I have read some of your files she so graciously dumped onto the internet. Probably not her smartest move…There are lots of people looking for you.”

Bucky looked at the floor. “So why not turn me in?”

Clint sighed, “Because I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind…and I’ve known Y/N for a while. She was my point person to drop off any intel I gathered from my mission for analysis at S.H.I.E.L.D. She became like the kid sister I never had.” He smiled taking a sip of his water. “And, she seems to trust you, and if she trusts you, then so do I.”

Bucky was confounded at how easily the word “trust” was thrown around by the various people he had gotten to know over the past few days. And how _he_ had done absolutely nothing to deserve that trust. It was difficult for him to accept that people wanted to help him even though they would gain nothing in return.

Bucky simply nodded. “Thanks, Barton.”

“No problem, pal.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Somewhere Over** **The** **Midwestern** **United States** **. April 2014.**

You were awakened by the slight shift of your body and someone’s hand on your hip. You gave a sharp inhale sitting up frantically and moved to back away.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” a man’s voice soothed. “Y/N, it’s me, Bucky.”

“ _Bucky?”_ you thought. You blinked a few times; your eyes adjusting to the light until Bucky came into focus. His brow furrowed. His hand rested gently on your shoulder to slow your movements. His metal hand gripped an icepack near your hip.

“Sarge.” you breathed, your voice hoarse.

“Hey, doll,” he smiled, crinkles forming around his eyes as he did so, “You gave us quite a scare back there.”

It came rushing back. Visiting Steve’s old apartment. Discussing one of Bucky’s memories. Getting shot. The firefight. Your struggle with Rollins. His violation. Rollins with an arrow in his neck. The pain. Your hand moved to your side. You felt bandages under your top. A top that was not the one you had been wearing. This was a navy t-shirt with an “A” logo on the pocket. You took a deep breath, looking up to him again.

“How bad?”

“You’re gonna have a hell of a bruise. The impact of the bullet also split the skin open and you needed a few stitches. No internal bleeding. Guess the suit did what it was supposed to.”

You nodded, “Good thing I grabbed it then.” Your let your eyes wander to take in your new surroundings. The air was cool. White noise was ever-present. The metal walls were lined with metal lockers with the names Thor, Banner, Rogers, Romanoff, Barton, and Stark. “The Avengers Quinjet?”

“The one and only.” A voice came from behind you. “How you feeling, L/N?”

“Sore and tired.” You winced slightly as you turned to face him.

“I’ll bet,” Clint said, putting his hand on your other shoulder, giving it a slight shake. “I gave you some pain meds so it shouldn’t be too bad for a little while. I’ll get you some pills when we land.”

“Where are we headed?” you looked from Clint to Bucky.

“Barton’s taking us to a safe-house, one that’s not associated with S.H.I.E.L.D.,” Bucky assured.

“So I take it you know who he is?” You asked Clint.

“Oh yeah, we had a nice chat while you were passed out,” Clint smirked.

You grimaced and rubbed your forehead. “How long was I out?”

“Eh, a little over an hour or so. We will be landing soon. We can talk more there.” Clint said patting your shoulder. “Take it easy will you?" He looked to Bucky. "Don’t give the Sergeant here any more reason to worry.” You looked away, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You heard him chuckle as he walked toward the cockpit.

A few moments of silence passed before you looked to Bucky again. He looked at the floor, his forefinger and thumb circling each other once again. Something you noted he did when he was anxious. You reached out and touched his shoulder. His eyes closed. “Are you okay?” you asked.

He looked up, a slight frown on his face. “I mean we’ve been shot at multiple times in the past 72 hours…I don’t want to put you in any more danger.”

“Sarge, we talked about this.” you intoned.

“I know…I just can’t help but think it’s my fault…It’s not fair to you.”

“It’s not your fault in the slightest. If anything, if you took the hit I did, who’s to say that we would even be here right now? We could both be in HYDRA’s custody. I knew what I signed up for when I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and when I made my promise to help you.”

“But-”

You held up your hand. “Don’t ask me to break my promise, James.” you breathed, holding his gaze, “Please…”

He sighed, returning your gaze, and nodded slightly.

You smiled. “I told you, you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

He chuckled, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He moved his metal arm to his shoulder and gave your hand a slight squeeze.

“Well, if you two are done making eyes at each other, we are here.” Clint’s voice came from behind you.

You and Bucky flew apart. You gasped at the sudden movement. “Agent Barton, if you make me rip my stitches, I’m gonna shove one of your exploding arrows up your ass,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Who says I am not into that sort of thing?” Clint said lowering the Quinjet ramp.

You gave Clint the finger as Bucky helped you down from the table after grabbing your gear. You leaned against him for support unsure of how your back would react. You took a few tentative steps, and once you were steady you made your down the ramp with Bucky. His arm wrapped around your shoulders. 

It was nighttime wherever you were, but the moon gave enough light for you to see a lone farmhouse surrounded by open fields and a large barn. Lights shone from inside. You could make out the front door opening revealing a lone figure standing in the light. They waved and Clint waved back. You looked to Bucky and he shrugged. Both of you made your way up the path through a metal gate as Clint bounded up the front steps.

“Honey, I’m home!” he called cheerfully. Greeting the figure with a kiss. You raised an eyebrow as Bucky helped you up the steps. “Y/N, James, this is my wife, Laura.”

Bucky smiled slightly, extending his right hand, “Nice to meet you, ma’am. Please, call me Bucky.”

Laura smiled warmly as she shook Bucky’s hand, “Then please call me Laura.” She turned to you. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about you, Y/N. I can’t thank you enough for keeping him in line when he was at S.H.I.E.L.D.” She leaned in to give you a small hug. You smiled.

“I bet not as good as you,” you chuckled. “It’s good to meet you, Laura.”

“Come on in,” she waved you inside. “The kids are at their grandparents so we can have the grown-up talk without being interrupted.”

“Kids?” you balked as you and Bucky walked past Clint following Laura into the house.

“Two actually,” Clint said.

“Two?!”

He nodded, laughing as he shut the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR NOTES:
> 
> Tried my hand at Bucky POV, I think I did okay? Maybe? Will definitely be including more of his POV in the future. 
> 
> Clint Barton aka Hawkeye is my favorite of the Original Six. I'm a sucker for sass and sarcasm. If I had a big brother, I would hope he would be like Clint. 
> 
> Sorry, if this chapter is somewhat short, but had I combined it with the next chapter, I think it would have been a tad too long. So another chapter should be up soon, possibly tomorrow. 
> 
> Please comment and leave kudos if you are enjoying the story. The next few chapters will be fluffy since they are at a resting point, but they will pick up soon I promise!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote "On and On" by Tenth Avenue North


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: mention of sexual violence; feelings of helplessness and overwhelming emotions.

“’ _ **Cause I’ll be by your side whenever you fall**_

_**In the dead of night whenever you call** _

_**And please don’t fight these hands that are holding you.** _

_**My hands are holding you here at my side.”** _

  
  


~*~*~*~

**The Barton Homestead. Missouri. April 2014.**

The Barton home was spacious and cozy. Exposed wood beams crisscrossed the ceiling. A rack hung just inside the front door and held numerous children’s raincoats and sweaters. The floors were covered in children’s toys and finger-paintings hung up on the walls. You had to admit it was odd seeing an Avenger in such a domestic atmosphere.

Laura moved to the kitchen, “You two can take the upstairs guest room. Clint will show you up. I’ll put the kettle on for some tea.”

Clint motioned for you and Bucky to follow. You looked up the stairs timidly; the idea of stairs seemed too much right now.

Sensing your trepidation, Bucky took your coat from you. “I’ll go put everything upstairs," he squeezed your shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he ascended the stairs.

You followed Laura to the kitchen and gingerly sat in one of the bar stools. You rested your head in your hands. _“It’s been a long goddamn day,”_ you thought. You closed your eyes and took a shaky breath. So many thoughts were running through your head. It was difficult to make sense of them all. _“I can’t process all of this now. I have shit to do.”_ Your eyes pricked with tears.

“You take honey with your tea?”

Your head shot up at Laura’s voice. You hadn’t heard the kettle whistle. Quickly, you ran your thumb under your eyes and sniffed. “Ye-,” your voice cracked, “Yes, Thank you, Laura. For all of this. I know it’s not ideal hiding fugitives in your house.”

Laura nodded as she handed you a mug of tea. She leaned against the counter with her own cup and blew on it. “It’s no problem.” She waved off your concern like she housed fugitives in her home on a weekly basis. “It’s the least I can do. When Clint called and mentioned you were in trouble, I didn’t hesitate. He’s talked of you so highly. I know you mean a lot to him.”

You smiled sadly. “I feel bad for not knowing about you or your kids. It honestly didn’t come up in conversation.” Footsteps descended the stairs and made their way into the kitchen.

“Even if it did, I would have denied it,” Clint singsonged as he crossed the kitchen and embraced Laura, kissing her temple. She smiled.

“Tea?” she asked him.

“Nah, I need something stronger. Ya like whiskey, Buck?” Clint asked, reaching into the cabinet above the refrigerator. He pulled out a bottle half full of amber liquid.

Bucky slid into the barstool next to you. “Uhh, sure, yeah, straight, please.”

Clint nodded filling up two glasses with two fingers of whiskey and slid one to Bucky.

“Hey, don’t put that away just yet,” You gestured to the bottle. Clint laughed and handed it to you. You poured a hefty amount into your tea. Bucky raised his eyebrows judgmentally and took a sip of his whiskey.

“Hot toddy,” you stated defensively. “Mind ya business, Sarge.”

Clint scoffed. “It’s a sin to mix good whiskey.” He snatched the bottle from you dramatically.

You rolled your eyes and sipped your drink. The warmth from the tea and the alcohol soothed your raw nerves and calmed your mind. Hunter would often fix hot toddies for you when you felt ill; the familiarity was comforting. You felt the tension melt from your shoulders.

“You know you just ruined your chance at having any more pain meds for the rest of the night,” Clint warned.

“Okay, Dad,” you mocked, rolling your eyes. Bucky snorted.

Laura smiled, “I see why you like her so much, hun. She’s just like you.”

Clint puffed out his chest pridefully, “I raised her right.” Laura smacked him lightly. “Well, now that we are out of immediate danger, you want to tell us what’s going on, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked to Bucky. You were too tired to explain. He nodded and launched into a summary of your past few days together. He left out Trish and Jessica’s names, which you knew they would appreciate. Being on the Avengers’ radar was the last place where they wanted to be.

“Why not just reach out to Steve? I’m sure he is looking for you, Buck. He could keep both of you safe from HYDRA. Put you up at the Tower. I’m sure Ton-” Clint stipulated.

“It’s not that simple, Clint,” you stated. “That’s the last thing either of them needs right now. Natasha is set to go up in front of that congressional committee to answer for her deliberate exposure of state secrets soon. No one has seen Fury since that day at the Triskelion. Not to mention, HYDRA is still active. They may be scattered for now, but they will be back.”

“Cut off one head; two more shall take its place,” Bucky mumbled into his whiskey.

You nodded, “The Avengers need to keep their focus on HYDRA...not us. You guys are the best chance we have of taking them down...for good.” You looked to Bucky who was still staring into his whiskey. “I take it that was why you were in New York?”

Clint nodded finishing his whiskey. “We got wind of some intelligence of a group of, as you put it, HYDRA goons gathering in Brooklyn; we assumed they were just regrouping. I was only supposed to observe and document...not interact. You can imagine my surprise when I saw you with The Winter Soldier.”

You felt Bucky tense up beside you. You placed your hand on his knee. He relaxed slightly. “What are you going to tell them?” he asked.

“Infighting and then I’ll tell them that Rollins caught sight of me and I had to engage. It should be believable enough, especially since they don’t have any central leadership at the moment.” Clint assured.

You nodded, “I hope you’re right.”

“In the meantime, you need to rest. Your injuries are going to take a few days to heal, and we will need to monitor them for any further damage.”

“You and Bucky are more than welcome to stay here,” Laura assured, looking at both of you in turn. “The kids are going to be with the grandparents for the weekend so it will be quiet for a few days.”

“Yeah, no offense, but you both look beat to shit,” Clint said with a chuckle.

Bucky looked at you. “We don’t want to be any trouble,” he started.

“It won’t be,” Clint said. “Seriously, no one will know you’re here. No one knows about this place, well except Natasha and Fury. Fury helped me set this up. It was not on any of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files; no one will know to come look for you here.”

You sighed, and looked back to Bucky, “It would give us time to plan our next move, and I could start on that file decryption. There’s a lot of data to get through; the sooner I start on it the better.”

“As much as I would like to keep moving, you’re right,” he sighed, looking back towards Laura and Clint. “I don’t know if we can ever thank you enough for the risk you are taking.”

“Comes with the territory of being married to this one,” Laura smiled, pointing her thumb at Clint. She took your cups and nodded towards the stairs. “Go on, go get some rest.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


Bucky spotted you as you made your way up the stairs one step at a time. The pain medicine Clint had given you was starting to wear off. You started to regret adding the whiskey to your drink. Bucky opened a door at the end of the hallway.

The room was cozy. A craft table covered in supplies was shoved against the far wall. Thin curtains were drawn across the two windows. Framed pictures were scattered on the walls as well as a few shelves with various knickknacks. A large plush rug covered most of the hardwood floors. Your gaze fell on a full-size bed covered in a few quilts and pillows.

“Yeah, there’s only one bed,” Bucky said rubbing his hand behind his neck.

“Uh-huh,” you answered.

“I can go sleep on the couch down-” Bucky started.

You turned to face him, “No!” You were suddenly terrified at the thought of being alone. Being alone meant processing the past night’s events and you were not ready to face those emotions quite yet. “No, don’t...I-” you stammered, running your hand through your hair. “I don’t...want to be alone...if that’s alright with you.”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly. “Are you okay, doll?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Yeah, it’s just I have basically been sleeping in the same room with you for the past few days. I’ve gotten used to it.” That wasn’t the real reason, and you hoped he wouldn’t ask more.

He nodded slowly, letting the pause hang in the air for you to continue. He knew there was more.

“I’m okay, Sarge, don’t worry,” you said as lightly as you could, moving across the room. You dug through the go-bag looking for a pair of leggings. “I’ll just change and then the bathroom is all yours.” You quickly brushed past him to the attached bathroom and closed the door.

You leaned against the door. _“Dear gods,”_ you thought, bringing your palm to your forehead with a small smack. You sighed heavily. Mentally chastising yourself; for what exactly, you weren’t sure. Your bumbling speech? Your awkwardness? The deliberate minimization of your feelings? Your desperation? You shook your head and moved to the sink. Turning on the water, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your face was dirty. Your hair was wild. Your eyes were tired. So many thoughts and emotions were running through your mind. You needed a distraction. You washed your face and gathered your hair in a bun at the nape of your neck. Peeling off the Tactical Pants proved to be a bit of a challenge with your bandages. _“Why does S.H.I.E.L.D. have to make their suits so fucking tight?”_ You grimaced slightly. You put on the leggings, took another deep breath, and then opened the door.

Bucky sat on the end of the bed, scrolling through the tablet you gave him. Your breath hitched when you realized he was shirtless. Your eyes traced up the titanium plating from his hand to his shoulder. The red star on his shoulder was slightly faded. The skin around the arm was thick and pink with scarring. _“Gods, that thing must weigh a ton,”_ you thought, _“that would explain his swagger when he walks.”_ You swallowed thickly when you thought of the strength behind his arm and what it could be capable of doing.

You cleared your throat, “Bathroom’s free.” Bucky nodded to you not taking his eyes of the tablet. You put the Tactical Pants back in the go-bag. You grabbed your laptop and turned to face him. “So, Sarge, are you ready to continue your pop-culture education?” you asked. A movie would be a welcome distraction from the storm raging inside your head. Bucky looked up from the tablet. “I figure a movie will be a good way to wind down after a day like today.” You wiggled the laptop in his direction, “I’ll let you pick?”

Bucky smiled slightly, putting the tablet down. “What are my choices?” he asked scooting over to make room for you to sit.

“Well, my movie library is quite extensive,” you stated. You sat down next to him crossing your legs under you, the laptop balancing on your lap. Your knee touched his thigh. “I have science fiction, fantasy, action, animation, drama, musicals, romantic comedies, etc.” You skimmed through various video files.

“Science fiction was always a favorite of mine,” Bucky said eyeing the cover art of various movies.

“Mine too,” you agreed, “Unfortunately that doesn’t narrow it down that much.” You continued to scroll through the files, pausing every once in a while. “Hmmm, oh, here we go, okay, so space or dinosaurs?” Bucky shrugged with a slight chuckle. “Here,” you held up both of your fists. “Pick one.” Bucky stared at your fists for a moment before placing his right hand over your left fist. You shuddered slightly at the contact, his hand was warm and calloused. It covered your fist easily. He rubbed his thumb slightly against your skin. “Space it is then,” your voice squeaked slightly. “Good thing too; now you’ll be able to pick up on most of my references.”

You scooted back until you were leaning against the headboard. Bucky followed suit, the bed creaked and the dip of mattress caused you to lean against his side involuntarily. You placed the laptop in between both of you. “Now, this is Star Wars: A New Hope. Released in 1977, it changed cinema forever with its way of storytelling and its use of special effects. Now this is technically Episode IV, but, trust me, it’s better we are starting off with thi-” You looked to Bucky who eyed you with curiosity and wonder. “...And, I’m rambling…” you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you ducked your head.

“Nah, doll, I can tell you are very…”

You cocked an eyebrow.

“Passionate about this,” Bucky chuckled.

You stuck your tongue out at him; “It’s one of my favorites,” you remarked, pressing play.  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


_Your apartment was dark and silent as you entered. It looked just the way you remembered it. The dishes in the sink. The box of clothes by the linen closet. Your sheet music scattered all over the living room. But, you were on edge. The air was close; you felt you may suffocate. You didn’t know why. This was your home; your safe space. So why were you terrified?_

_A shadow darted away out of the corner of your eye. You turned swiftly toward it. All was still. Another shadow darted across your vision. You began to take shallow breaths through your nose. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. Suddenly, a large hand grabbed you by the back of the neck, wrenching your head back painfully. You shrieked._

_A tall figure stared down at you and smiled cruelly. It threw you to the floor. The breath left your lungs. You skittered back against the couch. The figure stalked toward you. It grabbed you by the throat and dragged you close to its face. You knew that face. Rollins. Clint’s arrow was embedded in his neck. His eyes glinted evilly as he pressed his face to your hair and inhaled deeply. You kicked and thrashed. He laughed deeply. Any punch you threw or kick you gave had absolutely no effect on him like they missed entirely or they passed through his body like a ghost. You began to panic. He threw you up against the wall, his hand still against your throat. You struggled to breathe, feebly grasping at his hand._

_You heard muffled screams. A man’s screams. Bucky’s screams. A woman’s screams. Hunter’s screams. They had him. They had her. They had you. “I told you I would educate you,” he sneered. You couldn’t scream with his hand against your throat. You continued to thrash against him. You felt sucking sensations along your arms and legs. You wildly looked around; octopus tentacles wound their way around your limbs and torso. They had sprouted from Rollins back. You screamed as Rollins continued to laugh._

You awoke with a start, gasping for air. You sat up, hand on your chest. Your heart was still pounding. You looked around, trying to get your bearings. Your laptop was closed lying on the plush rug beside the bed. A quilt was bunched at your feet. The full moon shone through the gap in the curtains. Clint’s home. You were in Clint’s home.

You pushed your hair out of your face, continuing to breathe heavily. Your cheeks were wet. You covered your mouth in a choked sob, squeezing your eyes shut. It’s was a dream. Only a dream. _“It felt so real.”_ You needed air. You shifted off the bed. Grabbing a quilt that had fallen, you made your way downstairs as quietly and quickly as possible.

The night air was chilly as you opened the front door. The sky was clear; the stars twinkled. The moon became larger as it made its way toward the horizon. An owl hooted in the distance. You pulled the quilt around you as you sat down on the front steps. It was quiet, almost peaceful. Your eyes pricked with tears.

Then you lost it.

You broke down into quiet sobs; hot tears streamed down your cheeks. Your body shook with ragged breaths. You cried for Bucky and what HYDRA had done to him. You cried for your own failure to make any headway in your sister’s case. You cried for the powerlessness you felt at the hands of Rollins. You cried at the frustration of not being able to do more. So much darkness, you felt so much darkness. It was overwhelming. You bit down on your knuckle to keep from crying out.

You felt the step bow slightly under you.

“Y/N?” a quiet clear voice prodded.

You looked up, wiping your nose as Bucky sat next to you. “Sarge,” you sniffed, not making eye contact, “what are you doing out here?”

“I felt you leave the bed; when you didn’t come back, I got worried,” Bucky said softly.

Your eyes welled with tears once more. “I just needed some air. I’m f-”

“You had a nightmare.”

You swallowed thickly and looked down. You could feel his eyes on you. You nodded slightly.

“I thought so...do you want to talk about it?”

You turned to search his face. His gaze was steady. His body leaned towards your own. Turning your body to face him, you took a deep shuddering breath, “Yesterday, during our encounter with HYDRA, I went to reload my gun and was ambushed by Rollins. He, uh,” you fiddled with a loose thread on the quilt, “he got control of me and...threatened me and you...he touched me...tried to...you know.” You clenched your hands together tightly; the strain made your injured wrist pinch painfully. You sniffed, “I mean, he’s dead now; I have Clint to thank for that, seeing as my gun was out of ammo.” You felt new tears begin to flow. You closed your eyes, you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. Warm fingertips brushed your cheek as Bucky’s hand cupped your face gently. His thumb wiped away your tears. You leaned into his touch.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he said lowly. “But you are safe now. You will always be safe with me. I promise.”

You opened your eyes at his declaration. He stared back at you. The moonlight danced in his hair and across his cheekbone and jaw. A firm and sincere determination to keep this promise danced behind his eyes. You could trust those eyes. You dove into his arms. Your tears spilled onto his chest, tears of gratitude and acceptance. You felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you tight to him. His metal hand threaded gently through your loose pieces of hair. You both stayed this way for several minutes. Your breathing slowed and the tension around your heart eased. “I promise to keep you safe too, James, in whatever way I can,” you whispered.

A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, “I know you will.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


The next morning, you sat up your laptop in the Barton’s dining room to begin data-mining the leaked HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. files. After setting up your TOR browser and Qubes OS, you opened your decryption program and set it to unlock the encrypted files. In another window, you opened your analysis software and began searching the files which weren’t encrypted for various keywords such as: “Steve Rogers”, “Captain America”, “Strategic Scientific Reserve”, “Armin Zola”, “Operation Paperclip”; “Project Rebirth”, “Union of Soviet Socialist Republics”, “The Fist of HYDRA”, “The Asset”, “The Winter Soldier”, and “James Buchanan Barnes.” You were sure that there would be more search terms to add as you discovered more information. You then set up another command to separate files containing these search terms into separate folders.

You worked to set up an alert system to scan the internet for any news updates regarding HYDRA, S.H.I.E.L.D., and The Avengers. You would need to be updated on their movements and plans if you were going to stay one step ahead of them.

You sipped your coffee as you sat back in your chair. You had woken up back in the guest room in an empty bed. You assumed you had fallen asleep out on the front porch in Bucky’s arms after your nightmare. You weren’t sure exactly what you were to one another yet. The level of intimacy and mutual trust reached last night was more than friendship, at least you thought so. The quick progression from strangers to whatever you had become was strange but necessary. You wouldn’t be able to help one another without it.

“How’s it going?” Bucky’s voice came from the doorway. You looked up. He held a bottle of water. He and Clint had gone for a run around the homestead earlier that morning. His hair was pulled back into a half-bun. It almost looked like he hadn’t been out for a run at all.

“So far so good,” you beckoned him over, gesturing to the multiple windows you had open, “I’ve set up the decryption program and the analysis software to run pretty much constantly. All we have to do is wait at this point. There are terabytes of information.”

Bucky nodded, taking a seat next to you. “That’s good; even though I don’t fully understand what you just said.”

You laughed, “I’ll add a computer terminology unit to your 21st-century education curriculum. But as much as I love the technology of the 21st century,” you reached into your laptop bag and pulled out a small leather-bound notebook and a pen, “nothing beats a pen and paper.” You slid them over to Bucky, who thumbed through the notebook. “When my sister passed, my therapist had me journal as a part of my grieving process. I figured it could help you sort everything out. If you were to write down things you remember, you could fact check them against what we find in the files to help piece together what happened to you.”

“Dunno how good I’m gonna be at keepin’ a diary, doll,” Bucky hesitated.

You shrugged, “It doesn’t have to flowery or well-worded prose, Sarge. It can be lists, short sentences, words, drawings, or relevant things you find. No one else will see it except you and, if you want, me.”

Bucky smiled, “Thanks.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” you replied, taking another sip of your coffee.

“You’ve mentioned your sister a few times; can I ask what happened?”

You sighed, “Hunter was my older sister. Our parents died when I was real young, car accident. She helped raise me, taught me all the girly shit our grandfather wasn’t able to,” you chuckled. “She died during my second year of college. The police called it as a suicide, but when I discovered she had gotten involved with some shady people, I wasn’t fully convinced. That’s how I got into all this,” you gestured to the computer. “I adopted her hacker persona in order to find out what happened to her. She was the one into this stuff,” you smiled slightly, “not me. I went to college to study music.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky stated, reaching over to squeeze your hand. You smiled. A moment of silence passed. “Music, huh?” he asked.

You blushed slightly, “Yeah, I had a scholarship to study musical composition.”

“That explains the sheet music and the piano in your apartment.”

“I thought you would have figured it out since we met outside the jazz club?” You laughed.

“I mean...I thought maybe you were a waitress.”

“Really, Sarge?” you scoffed dramatically, bringing your hand to your chest, “A simple cocktail waitress? I’m gutted.”

“How was I supposed to know you sang there?” Bucky chuckled.

“Oh yeah, Y/N here is a regular nightingale,” Clint answered as he made his way into the dining room. He was sweaty and out of breath, he chugged a bottle of water. “Always singing in her office or humming through the halls.”

“I’d like to hear it,” Bucky smiled, “I always was a fan of music.”

“Maybe someday, Sarge,” you assured, “but, right now, I need help from both of you.”

“What’s up?” Clint asked. Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“After the events of yesterday, I have discovered that I am grossly unprepared to effectively neutralize threats to my personal safety by myself.”

“Y/N-” Bucky started.

“You know its true, Sarge. I don’t want you to have to worry about me if something like last night ever happens again. These are things I need to know, especially if we ever get separated.”

“I’m down,” Clint answered taking a seat. “What are you thinking?”

“Hand to hand combat and a refresher with firearms. Nothing too fancy.”

“I think we can handle that. Eh, Buck?” Clint remarked.

Bucky kept his gaze on you but said nothing.

“I can do this with just Clint, Sarge,” you advised, “But, I won’t deny that I could learn a lot from you. It’s your choice.”

Bucky sighed with a slight smile, “When do we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> Intimacy and tension give me life! 
> 
> ALSO BEDSHARING! 
> 
> Please comment or leave kudos, if you are enjoying the story as much as I enjoy writing it!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote: "By Your Side" by Tenth Avenue North.


	10. Chapter Ten

_“_ **_I’m looking for my blue, blue hour_ **

**_I should be so cold, stories never told._ **

**_It’s the strangest feeling_ **

**_With all this new, new power.”_ ** ****

  
  


~*~*~*~

**The Barton Homestead. Missouri. May 2014.**

The air was warm on your skin; the sun shone through the leaves in the trees. You fell to the ground with a hard thud, the air leaving your lungs. “Fuck!” You laid on the ground for a moment getting your breath back before sitting up.

“Got to be quicker than that, doll,” Bucky said standing off to the side as he watched you and Clint spar for the third time that morning. Bucky had been hesitant to spar with you due to your injury and his wariness of his own strength; preferring to coach and every so often change your stance or form. Clint had been happy to oblige; claiming he needed the practice.

“You lasted a lot longer that time though,” Clint said offering his hand. You took it. As he pulled you to your feet, you immediately moved close to him placing your foot behind his and toppled him over. He did a backward roll as he hit the ground and was immediately back up on his feet. He started toward you, slightly lowering his head and shoulders. You immediately took your stance and met him halfway; arms locking around his head as you thrust your knee into his abdomen multiple times.

“Good counter,” Bucky praised from the sidelines, “Your footwork is getting smoother.”

Grabbing you around the middle, Clint thrust his full weight toward you, toppling you both over. Using the backward momentum and your knee on his chest, you pushed him off of you. You scrambled back up before he was on you again throwing punches.

“Watch his shoulders to anticipate where his punches will land,” Bucky coached, “Remember to meet his punches halfway with your blocks.”

You adjusted your movements accordingly, even managed to land a few punches of your own. What you didn’t see was his leg swing out to hit the back of your knee, “Shit!” you screeched, instantly dropping to the ground, once more.

Clint helped you up. “We’re still friends right?” you asked, wiping your face with your shirt.

“Yeah, you didn’t hit me that hard, kid,” Clint laughed, tossing you a water bottle. You accepted it gratefully.

“Daddy!” Lila shouted as she ran across the field towards the copse of trees you had designated as your training area.

It had been a week since you and Bucky had arrived at the Barton Homestead. Clint and Laura’s children, Cooper and Lila, returned home from a visit with their grandparents shortly after. They had been shy of both of you at first, but after a day they had warmed up to your presence.

Lila had taken a particular shine to Bucky. She always offered him hair-ties when she noticed his hair in his face because, as she put it, her mom always put her hair up when she was working. He had accrued quite a collection of different brightly colored elastics over the past few days. When she discovered he had a metal arm, she began to discreetly stick refrigerator magnets to it and would wait to see how long it took for him to notice. She would cackle like a hyena when he finally did. Now when she asked, he would sit with her as she used letter magnets and spell out simple words on his arm. You loved watching the two of them interact. He was so patient and gentle with her. Bucky told you Lila reminded him of his youngest sister.

Cooper liked you best; because you, in his words, were “a real-life hacker like Lex from Jurassic Park.” While you analyzed data on your laptop, he would often sit with you engaging you in lengthy discussions regarding his favorite movies and video games. He usually supplied you with snacks and tea during those times. You recently started teaching him simple block coding skills so he could customize his Minecraft characters. Laura was happy to have him learn a practical skill instead of “letting his brain just rot in front of the T.V.”

“Daddy!” Lila squealed as she drew closer.

“Hey, kiddo!” Clint bent down to her level.

“Mommy told me to come get you and Y/N and Buck for lunch. She also said not to hurt Y/N.” Lila said as she jumped into Clint’s arms.

“Did she now?” Clint asked, blowing raspberries into his daughter’s cheek. She squealed in delight, trying to bat him away. “Well let’s not keep her waiting.” Clint and Lila started down the path. “You and your brother feed the chickens this morning?”

“Yes, sir, Tony’s been picking on Steve again though,” Lila said, her voice fading as they made their way back to the house. You chuckled. When you learned Clint had named his chickens after each of The Avengers you had laughed hysterically for an obscene amount of time and continued to fall into giggle fits for the remainder of the day.

Bucky made his way over to you, he handed you a towel to wipe your face. “You took a few hits to the back today,” he stated, concerned, “Are you okay?”

“Sore, a little tender, but no acute pain,” you said lifting your shirt to catch a glimpse of your bruise. Once a vivid purple and blue, the bruise had dulled to a greenish color. Your stitches had been removed yesterday. The new scar tissue was vibrant against your skin.

Bucky examined your injury. His fingers brushed over where your stitches once were.

You shivered slightly. You would have thought since you had shared a bed for the past week you would be used to his touch by now. Since that first night, both of you would wake up each morning in a tangled pile of limbs, clinging to one another. You would blame it on the size of the bed, but both of you seemed to instinctively look for one another no matter how much distance you put between yourselves at the beginning of the night. You never talked about it. That bothered you, but you didn’t know how to address it so you left it alone for the time being. The past few nights, you had honestly the best sleep you had in a very long time, so you were hesitant to give it up.

“Looks like it’s healing nicely,” Bucky stated, smiling. He gathered the water bottles and towels.

“Good,” you said. “It means I am ready to spar with you.” You sipped your water.

“Possibly,” Bucky said teasingly, “Pretty sure I would beat you every time though.”

“Oh, is that a challenge I hear, Sarge?” you asked.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Come on, doll, let’s see what Laura’s got for us today,” offering you his arm. You took it as both of you strolled down the path toward the house.

  
  


~*~*~*~

Bucky joined Clint out on the front porch for a glass of whiskey later that evening. You were occupied with your data analysis and Cooper was keeping you company for the time being. Bucky sat down in a rocking chair next to Clint’s as he watched Lila run around the yard with a jar attempting to catch fireflies. The sky was that shade of deep blue that occurs just after a sunset. The stars were making their nightly entrance, one at a time.

“Barton, can I ask you something?” Bucky inquired, swirling his whiskey in his glass.

“Sure,” Clint said, turning toward him. “What about?”

“The night we met, you told me you knew what it was like to be afraid of your own mind. What did you mean by that?”

Clint took a sip of his whiskey. “I’m sure Y/N has told you about The Battle of New York in 2012 and The Avengers.”

“Only the short version.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. once controlled an object called the Tesseract.”

“The HYDRA power source?” Bucky had read about some of his missions with The Howling Commandos regarding the destruction of HYDRA bases and weapons facilities during World War II which used the Tesseract as a power source. He still wasn’t exactly what it did or where the source of its power came from.

Clint nodded, “It was integral to Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S., it was thought that the Tesseract could open new doors for space travel. But, a door opens from both sides. The Asgardian, Loki managed to use it to transport himself to Earth via a portal. He planned to use it to open a larger, more stable portal for his Chitauri army to come and conquer Earth. He had this scepter that could control the minds of people of use to him with a single touch. Still not sure how it worked. Loki decided he needed me since I was part of The Avengers, and, therefore, I knew how they operated and their weaknesses. I did many things I am not proud of. I killed a lot of people. I betrayed my team. I know it wasn’t my fault that I did those things, and many people told me so. But, I still did them. It took a while to fully accept that fact. I was terrified of losing control like that again for a long time, still am.”

Bucky was silent; he twirled the whiskey in the glass. He knew that feeling. For so long, he was a puppet of HYDRA, treated like a machine. A means to an end.

Clint continued, “I have just had a taste of being unmade. But, I’d like to think I know a little bit about what you are going through.” He turned to look inside the house. “I also know that it helped immensely having someone in my corner. Someone who would defend me until the ends of the Earth and remind me of who I am.”

Bucky followed his gaze. You and Cooper were talking animatedly, tossing popcorn up in the air for one another to catch with your mouths.

“I think she can be that for you,” Clint said.

Bucky stared at you through the window. He loved watching you laugh, the way your eyes would squint together, and how big your smile would become. You had such a giving heart, so willing to help anyone in any way you could. His smile faltered. “I don’t want to hurt her,” he mumbled. He knew she had experienced so much pain and loss in her life; he didn’t want to be the cause of any more of it.

“I don’t think you will,” Clint said. “You care for her,” he took a sip of his whiskey, “dare I say, even like her.”

Bucky made a move to say something.

“Don’t try to deny it, Buck. They don’t call me Hawkeye for nothin’. I’ve seen how you are with one another, especially that first night on the porch.”

“How-”

“You think that just because I, a trained assassin and spy, live on an isolated homestead in the middle of Missouri, I don’t have security measures in place?”

Bucky chuckled, “Nah, I guess not.” He took another swig of his whiskey.

“I don’t think I have ever seen her be that vulnerable around anyone. You could be good for one another. Not saying you have to act on it right away or ever if that’s what you wanted. It’s just something to think about.” Clint stood up, clapping Bucky on the shoulder, and made his way down to Lila.

Bucky nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He turned back to look at you. Your attention had returned to your computer screen, headphones on. You bit your lip reaching behind your ear for the pencil you kept there and scribbled something in a notebook. Fully unaware of his staring, you sang and danced to yourself. He wondered how he could ever be worthy of your thoughts.

  
  


~*~*~*~

“I think Europe is our best option,” you said tapping your pen on your hand, leaning back in your chair. You and Bucky sat close together in front of your laptop. “If we are going to find out more about what happened during the war, at least while you were there, I think we need to actually be there. There is only so much we can learn from these files.”

Clint was due to report back to Avengers Tower in two days, and neither of you wanted to impose on Laura and the kids anymore despite their protests. In order to come up with a plan, you and Bucky had spent the majority of the day at the dining room table filtering through your data analysis reports on the exposed S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA files.

“I agree,” Bucky said, flipping through the notebook you had given him earlier in the week. He had filled up half of it over the course of a week. You made a mental note to get him some more. “Going to Russia would be too risky, and if I am being honest, it’s not a place I ever want to return to.”

You nodded, turning your attention to your computer screen. You pulled up a map of World War II-era Europe which marked the HYDRA weapons facilities taken down by The Howling Commandos which you then overlaid it over a map of 21st century Europe. “You said you spent the majority of your furloughs and leave in London. I figured we can start there and visit some old spots to see if anything jogs your memory before making our way to the continent.” You pointed to the map.

Bucky nodded, “I read that the pub, Whip & Fiddle, we frequented was destroyed in The Blitz.”

“It’s been rebuilt. I checked. Fully remodeled and stocked with Captain American and Howling Commando memorabilia, apparently, the new owner is an avid fan,” you said. “Also, we are going to need to stay off the grid as much as possible, and despite the hefty amount of cash we picked up from S.H.I.E.L.D., it’s not an endless supply.” You tapped your fingers on the table. You and Bucky had toyed with the idea of accessing his old bank account; the interest he would have accrued over the past 70 years would be astronomical. However, both of you agreed it would be too risky for now at least.

“I know of some defunct HYDRA safe-houses,” Bucky said, shuffling through some of the papers on the table. “There was a map of them around here somewhere too.” You had printed out so many documents; you were sure you would owe Laura a new printer and a lifetime supply of ink. He pulled out a piece of paper from the bottom of the stack.

“I can give you the location of some S.H.I.E.L.D. ones too,” Clint said as he walked into the dining room. He handed you each a bowl of pasta, which you took gratefully. Laura had spoiled you with her cooking over the past week. You had never been particularly good at it. It would be one of many things you missed when you left.

Bucky pushed the map of HYDRA safe-houses towards Clint, who began marking the locations of various S.H.I.E.L.D. safe-houses as well as their physical addresses on the back of the map. Bucky and you ate your pasta in silence. “These are the ones we haven’t used in a while, so they should be safe to use,” Clint said capping the pen. He eyed the mess you had made of his table. “I see the planning is coming along well; where are you headed first?”

“London,” Bucky answered. “I spent some time there during the war and it’s a good stepping off point.”

Clint nodded. “Where to next?”

“There are various options,” you said, finishing your pasta. “We will be limited by the ease of access to a safe-house.”

“I think Austria would be a good place to start; it’s where I had my first contact with Zola,” Bucky said hesitantly.

“Makes sense,” you affirmed, not wanting to negate his choice. Going back to where everything started was a logical choice, but returning to a scene of previous trauma could be distressing. There was no telling what would happen. Turning to look through your files, “That facility was in Kreischberg.”

Clint looked at the map of safe-houses. “That’s near one of our old S.H.I.E.L.D. safe-houses. I remember that place, nice view. It’s bitch to deal with in winter though with the mountain roads and the snow.”

You perked up. “Mountains?” It had been ages since you had seen proper mountains. You missed the smell of the trees, the look of untouched powder, and how the snow seemed to silence all outside noise.

“Yeah, Kreischberg is between two mountain ranges in the Austrian Alps. The safe-house is west of it on the mountain, one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s more remote places. It was mainly used for witness protection.”

“Sounds like an ideal place to hide,” Bucky said, looking to you with a small smile. You nodded, excited at the prospect of spending time in the mountains again. “It’s possible we could use one safe-house as a home-base while we travel around to other sites. We’ll have to find something to get around in, but we have plenty of cash so that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Oh, before I forget,” Clint said, he dug in his pocket and pulled out a cellphone. He tossed it to you. “It’s a secure line. Only I have the number. You can call me if you ever need to and vice versa.” You twirled the phone in your hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll only call if it's an emergency.”

“Thank you, Clint,” you said smiling.

“I actually have to take the Quinjet to Europe before going back to Avengers Tower, transporting a captured HYDRA agent back to the US for questioning. We could leave a day early and I can drop you off on the way.” Clint said, his hand rested on his chin. “Plus, it’s not like you are going to make it through security with all those firearms and cash.”

“You have a point,” you stated. “Are you okay with leaving tomorrow?” You turned to Bucky.

“I’m okay with it, I can’t speak for Lila and Cooper when they find out we are leaving,” Bucky chuckled. “I’m going to miss those rugrats.”

“Me too,” you smiled. “Tomorrow, it is then,” you confirmed.

~*~*~*~

You unloaded the last load of clothes from the dryer. You were not sure when you would be able to have clean clothes again so you were taking advantage of Laura’s machine. Moving to the folding table, you began folding one of Bucky’s shirts as small as you could for it to fit in the go-bag.

Laura joined you, moving her load in the washing machine to the dryer. “Thanks for letting us use your machine, Laura,” you said. “I swear whenever I see you again I will have all the printer ink and laundry detergent for you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she smiled. “You and Bucky have kept my kids entertained all week. I should be the one thanking you.”

You chuckled. “I’m going to miss them. I’m sure Bucky is going to miss Lila sticking magnets on his arm too.” You folded a pair of your socks just how your grandfather taught you.

“You and Bucky are leaving tomorrow?” she asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Yeah,” you turned to face her, still folding clothes. “There is only so much we can learn from the files we’ve data-mined. In order to help Bucky remember fully, we think we need to revisit places he has been.”

“It makes sense” Laura affirmed. “I would be careful though, stirring up intense memories could backfire. Clint was prone to emotional outbursts when he remembered something he had done while Loki had control of his mind.”

“It’s definitely something I’m concerned about. I figured I would let him take the lead. I won’t push him to remember something he may not be ready for.”

She nodded, “Speaking of Bucky, how do you feel about him?”

You looked at her quizzically, “What do you mean?”

She gave you a look. A look that said, “you know exactly what the fuck I am talking about.” And you did.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “I’m really not sure what you are talking about.” You returned your focus to your laundry.

Laura rolled her eyes and looked around to make sure the coast was clear. “I mean there is obviously some attraction there,” she said moving closer to you, keeping her voice low.

“I don’t know about that.”

You did.

“Oh, please, Y/N. It’s obvious. His eyes light up when you are around. You actively seek him out. Both of you are constantly finding excuses to touch one another. For Christ’s sake, you have shared a bed for the past week.”

The heat made it’s way from your cheeks to your ears. You were sure your whole face was red by now. You laughed nervously, “I mean to be fair I have been focused on finding him information about his past, we’ve been training together, and you only have one guest room, with a small bed I may add.” You punctuated this list by aggressively folding various items of clothing.

“He offered to take the couch and you told him no,” Laura said laughing.

You stopped folding clothes. “I don’t know what we are, Laura. Truly, I have no idea. We met a week and a half ago and have had numerous highly emotional and intense experiences since then.” You ran a hand through your hair. “It’s insane. Literally.” You had started talking and now you couldn’t stop. “We’ve bonded in ways that I had no idea existed. It’s not a friendship; it’s more than that. He’s like my emotional support assassin.” You picked at your cuticles. “There is this level of comfort, trust, and intimacy that I have never experienced with anyone before that wasn’t my sibling.” You swallowed, “But it doesn’t feel sibling-like.”

Laura smiled and rubbed your arm, waiting for you to continue.

You shook your head. “I don’t want to do or say anything to upset what we have now. No need to make things needlessly complicated,” you sighed, turning back to fold your laundry.

“Just something to think about,” Laura said, patting your arm as she left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE
> 
> The headcanon that Clint named chickens after each Avenger gives me life. 
> 
> Getting into the thick of the story now. Probably will be some time jumps at some point but they won't be drastic. Also means the slow burn won't be so slow anymore!!
> 
> Please comment and leave kudos if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote: "Blue Hour" - Mothica


	11. Chapter Eleven

_“ **Walk me home in the dead of night**_

_**I can't be alone with all that's on my mind** _

_**So say you'll stay with me tonight** _

_**'Cause there is so much wrong going on outside."** _

_~*~*~*~_

**The Barton Homestead. Missouri. May 2014.**

The next morning Bucky checked over the guns and packed the go-bag while you made the bed. This room had been your home for the past week. It seemed strange to leave, but you knew it was the right thing to do.

“How are we looking?” you asked as you smoothed down the quilt. You turned to face him.

“I think we got everything,” Bucky said, handing you the laptop bag.

You nodded and followed him out the door.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” Bucky said, looking back into the room, his hand rested on the light switch.

You squeezed his hand. “We’ll be back,” you assured, “one day.”

Bucky nodded as he flipped off the lights and closed the door.

Laura, Cooper, and Lila met both of you at the base of the stairs. Lila sniffled, hiding behind her mother. Cooper stood off to the side and looked at the floor.

You hugged Laura, “I don’t know how we can ever repay you, Laura.”

“Just be safe,” she said, pulling back to look at you. “Take care of each other.” She looked from you to Bucky.

Bucky nodded, “Yes, ma’am.” Laura pulled him into a hug and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and smiled when she pulled away.

You moved to Cooper, bending down to his level. “Hey Coop,” you smiled, he kept his eyes down. “You keep practicing those codes okay?” He looked up. “You can email me with any coding questions you have. Your dad has my email address; I will answer them as often as I can.” He nodded. You pulled him into a hug. “You take care of your sister for me? Okay?” Tears pricked your eyes.

“I will,” he said, returning your hug. You smiled, pulling back to ruffle his hair. He batted you away playfully.

You stood up and turned back to Bucky. He knelt on the floor in front of Lila; she had tears in her eyes.

“I hope you don’t mind, I kept some of the hair ties you gave me,” he said, trying to catch her eye. She sniffled and nodded vigorously.

“Do you have to go?” she asked pitifully.

Bucky smiled sadly and looked to you for a moment then back to Lila. “Me and Y/N have some things we gotta do.” Lila hung her head. “But hey,” he said, “I gotta come back and see my best girl so I’ll make sure we aren’t gone too long.” Lila looked up smiling before throwing her arms around Bucky’s neck. A look of surprise crossed his face before he returned her hug. You felt a few tears slip down your cheeks.

“Promise?” she asked, her face buried in his shoulder.

He pulled away to look at her. “No tricks,” he said, winking at you.

You laughed and moved to pick her up, swinging her into a hug. “I’m gonna miss you, ya rugrat!” She squealed in delight, returning your hug. “Keep your brother in line, huh? It’s a younger sister's job after all.” She nodded as you sat her down.

Bucky gave Cooper a fist bump as Clint walked in the door.

“We’re ready to get underway,” Clint said.

Laura hugged her husband, “Don’t be too long.”

He kissed her soundly. “I’ll make sure to get you something from the gift shop if I’m late,” he said smiling. He turned to Lila and Cooper. They ran to hug him. “You two behave for your mother,” he said, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” they said.

“Let’s get going then,” Clint said as he gathered his gear.

You and Bucky followed Clint up the path to the Quinjet in silence. At the top of the hill, you turned back to look at the house and noticed Laura, Lila, and Cooper standing on the front porch, waving at you. You waved back before turning around quickly. You were afraid if you lingered any longer, you would change your mind and stay. Bucky caught your eye and put his arm around you as you made your way up the ramp.

“We’ll be back,” he said.

~*~*~*~

**Somewhere Over London. May 2014.**

ABBA’s Dancing Queen played over the Quinet’s speakers.

“Disco’s not so bad,” Bucky said, nodding his head to the music.

“You must have not told him about Bee Gee-Free weekends,” Clint said, looking mildly pained.

“I thought it would be better to introduce it to him slowly,” you said, miming that you were playing the piano. “Plus, ABBA is classic and god-tier disco.”

“What’s a Bee Gee?” Bucky asked.

“Trust me, pal, you don’t wanna know,” Clint said, adjusting the jet’s controls. “Hang on to something; we’re gonna be landing soon.”

Slight turbulence shook the jet. Rain streaked across the windows, blurring the lights of the city below. You’d never been outside the U.S. despite working for S.H.I.E.L.D. You were nervous but excited to see new places.

“Londontown and its goddamn rain,” Clint said, straining to keep the bird steady against the buffeting wind.

The jet shook again, causing you to lose your balance. You stumbled backward into Bucky. He placed his hands on your hips to steady you.

“Ya got it, doll?” Bucky asked; he looked down and smirked.

You nodded and gave a nervous laugh. His hands stayed on your hips as the jet continued its descent. You made no move to pull away. His touch was gentle. You felt safe.

Clint landed the jet safely in the middle of an open field. “Welcome to London, specifically the Kew Gardens.” He shut down the controls. “We don’t have much time before someone notices we are here; so, you will need to get moving.”

Bucky let go of your hips as he picked up your gear, tucking his Sig in the waistband of his jeans. You placed your gun in your ankle holster and tucked taser disks were in your bra. Pulling on the laptop bag and your rain jacket, you joined Clint and Bucky by the ramp.

“You got everything?” Clint asked.

“We’re good,” you said; Bucky nodded.

“Good,” he smiled, opening the rear hatch. Rain pattered on the exposed metal; the night’s breeze was cold. “Fury kept my family and home off of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files; I’d like to keep it that way.”

Bucky nodded, he looked to you then back to Clint, “You got it, Barton.”

“I’ll keep both of you off S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files as well. None of the Avengers will know about you, including Nat and Steve.”

“I would appreciate that,” Bucky said; he held his hand out to Clint, who shook it readily. “Thank you for everything.”

You pulled Clint into an embrace. “I can’t thank you enough, Dad,” you joked, kissing his cheek.

Clint smiled and gave you a hard squeeze. “Get going, this rain isn’t going to get any better. The safe-house is a few subway stops away.”

You pulled up your hood; Bucky did the same, “We’ll be in touch whenever we can,” you called over your shoulder as you and Bucky made your way down the ramp.

Clint saluted both of you before pressing the button to raise the ramp. You and Bucky watched as Quinjet flew off. The rain almost instantly soaked your clothes; the wind felt almost icy. You sighed heavily. You and Bucky were on your own. Your confidence wavered. Cool metal fingers intertwined with yours as Bucky shouldered up next to you. A warmth spread through you. You looked up to Bucky and smiled.

“Come on, doll, let’s go before you freeze,” Bucky said, pulling you in the direction of the subway station.

~*~*~*~

**Lambeth, London. May 2014.**

Clint’s safe-house was located near the Imperial War Museum. “ _How fitting,”_ you thought. The building was nondescript; you noted it was right next to the Eurostar station. “ _We can make a quick getaway should we need to.”_ You shivered despite being tucked into Bucky’s side. You had walked intertwined this way partially to stay unnoticed and partially so you wouldn’t freeze.

You walked up the steps to the call box and punched in the code given to you by Clint. The main door opened with a loud buzzing noise and a creak. Bucky looked around making sure you weren’t followed before ushering you inside. You checked the apartment number on your tablet and made your way up the stairs.

The apartment was located at the end of the hallway near the roof access door. S.H.I.E.L.D. really had thought of everything. Bucky gently pushed a hidden access hatch revealing a keypad; he punched in another code. You heard the door give a heavy click as the lock turned. You reached down grabbing your gun from your ankle holster, aiming it at the door. Bucky did the same with his Sig. He nodded at you. You pushed open the door. The entry hallway was empty, aside from a small table. You and Bucky made your way silently through the apartment making sure all the rooms were clear.

Once clear, you placed your gun on the kitchen counter, and turned on the lights, fully taking in your surroundings. The apartment was small and minimal. The kitchen boasted a small stove and refrigerator. The cabinets contained a minimal amount of kitchen utensils and dishes. A threadbare sofa and a small dining table for two decorated the living room. A small window with a radiator underneath overlooked the Eurostar station. You could take advantage of the station’s WiFi network at this distance; you would just need to set up a repeater. This way your location wouldn’t be compromised.

Bucky emerged from the bedroom, placing the go-bag on the counter next to your gun. “Bedroom’s clear,” he said. You nodded, rubbing your hands up and down your arms. You peeled off your raincoat and removed your shoes. It seemed the damp of London had wormed its way down to your bones. Bucky moved to the radiator and turned it on. It kicked to life making a knocking sound a few times before falling silent. He grabbed your coat and placed it next to the radiator so it could dry.

You opened the go-bag and grabbed a set of dry clothes. “I’m gonna change,” you said moving into the bedroom.

Closing the door behind you, you observed the room. Another small window that overlooked the train station was covered by thin white curtains. The walls were bare. A small chest of drawers rested against one of the walls. A lamp sat on a nightstand next to a small double bed. You chuckled. “ _Looks like we will be doubling up again...not that I don’t mind that.”_

You unstrapped your ankle holster and pulled the taser disks out of your bra placing them on the dresser. You peeled off your jeans and shirt, making a note to place them by the radiator. You pulled off your socks, hissing as your feet hit the cold floor. You hastily pulled on your sweatpants and sweatshirt. You heard a kettle whistle as you gathered your hair into a ponytail.

You opened the door to find Bucky pouring hot water into two mugs.

“I found some tea,” he said. “Don’t know what kind it is though.”

“As long as it’s hot,” you said, placing your clothes by the radiator. You already noticed a difference in the temperature of the room. You grabbed your laptop bag and sat at the small table, your back to the radiator. Bucky had changed also while you were in the bedroom. He wore a long sleeve shirt and sweatpants. You noted that he seemed to like cozy clothes despite his body temperature being higher than that of the average human. You imagined it had something to do with his metal arm leeching his body heat. He walked over to the table and placed a steaming mug in front of you before taking a seat.

You enclosed the mug in both of your hands, relishing the warmth. “Thank you,” you sipped the tea. Bucky smiled, taking a sip of his own before unwrapping a granola bar. He slid one of the bars to you. You accepted it gratefully, not realizing how hungry you actually were.

“We’ll need to go out and get supplies in the morning,” Bucky said. “There’s not much here. This was the last of the tea.”

You nodded, “I’m sure there is a market around here somewhere. We can get tea, coffee, and some easy things to cook.” You took a pad of paper out of your laptop bag and began making a shopping list. 

“We should get some plums too,” Bucky said, stirring his tea.

“Sure, we can do that,” you added plums to the list, “You like plums?”

“I did some research at Clint’s. Plums have antioxidants that can help improve one’s memory, according to some studies.”

“Huh, I did not know that,” you smiled.

Bucky nodded and absentmindedly stirred his tea. His gaze was far away. A few moments of silence passed.

“Your wheels are turning,” you said.

“It’s nothing,” he sighed, his gaze still far-away.

You raised an eyebrow. “ _That’s a crock of shit.”_ But you nodded just the same. Emotions were difficult; you imagined even more so when all of your autonomy had previously been stripped from you. You reached across the table and rested your hand on top of his own. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, just know I am here if you ever need me.” His eyes flicked back to you. You smiled slightly. He swallowed and nodded.

Both of you finished your tea in silence.

You checked the time. London was 6 hours ahead of Missouri. If you wanted to get up at a decent time the next morning, you would need to sleep soon. You gathered the mugs and placed them in the sink.

You checked the locks on the door, making sure they were secure before walking back over to Bucky. You touched his shoulder. “Come on, Sarge. We need to get some sleep now in order to beat jet lag.”

Bucky looked up with a wry smile. “Ya know, in the 40s, a dame being the one to proposition a man was considered indecent.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed. “Your generation practically invented ‘parking’.”

“Well, I didn’t have a car,” Bucky said standing up.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, it’s doesn’t change the fact that it’s fucking cold in this apartment and you’re basically a walking space heater.”

“Fair point,” he chuckled as he followed you to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> I love Bucky interacting with Lila! We stan Older Brother! Bucky in this house.
> 
> AND MORE PHYSICAL CONTACT!! 
> 
> Transition chapter before we get into the good stuff. 
> 
> Please comment and leave kudos if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote from "Walk Me Home" by P!NK


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly recommended listening to "The Very Thought of You" during this chapter. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iLHHXjdF7N4

_“_ **_Hell, I'll always fight. But you got to do one thing for me."_ **

**_"What's that?"_ **

**_"Open a tab."_ **

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**London. November 1943.**

_Bucky sat quietly at the bar of the pub Whip & Fiddle, nursing a finger of whiskey or scotch as the barkeep had called it. “Better than that stuff you Yanks make,” he said. Bucky smirked as the newly minted Howling Commandos sang along with the pub’s piano player._

> **“ _Fare thee well, for I must leave thee,_**
> 
> **_Do not let this parting grieve thee,_ **
> 
> **_And remember that the best of friends._ **
> 
> **_Must part, must part._ **
> 
> **_Adieu, adieu kind friends, adieu, adieu, adieu,_ **
> 
> **_I can no longer stay with you, stay with you,_ **
> 
> **_I will hang my harp on the weeping willow tree,_ **
> 
> **_And may the world go well with thee.”_ **

_On any normal occasion, he would have been singing with them and participating in their drinking games. Liberation was something that should be celebrated. However, since Kreischberg, he felt different, physically, and emotionally. In fact, this was his fifth scotch and he had yet to feel any effects at all. Zola had done something to him; he just wasn’t sure exactly what. All he knew was that he was the only prisoner to survive his time in the HYDRA base’s lab._

_He looked at Steve who sat beside him. He had grown up. Quite literally. He wasn’t that little dumbass from Brooklyn who didn’t know how to back down from a fight. Now, he was the BIG dumbass from Brooklyn who viewed HYDRA and the Third Reich as simple back alley bullies._

_By all rights, they wouldn’t even be here if Bucky had his way. They’d still be in Brooklyn. He would have studied science and Steve would have studied art. They would occasionally go out dancing with girls, eventually settling down to raise their own families._

_But, people were finally seeing Steve for who he really was all along, idealistic and inspirational. A_ great _man. Seeing Steve this way was confusing. He didn’t need a protector anymore, and now Bucky would have to share him with the rest of the world. Where did that leave him?_

_The drunken singing died down. He shoved these thoughts aside as Steve made a move to stand up to face Agent Peggy Carter whose sudden appearance caused the revels to cease. He downed the rest of his scotch before following suit._

“ _Agent Carter,” Steve said, nodding to her._

“ _Ma’am,” Bucky greeted._

_Peggy nodded to both of them. “Howard has some equipment for you to try. Tomorrow morning?” She looked to Steve._

_Steve swallowed, “Sounds good,” he said thickly._

_Peggy gestured to the rest of the Howling Commandos in the other room who had returned to their drunken singing. “I see your top squad is prepping for duty.”_

_Bucky eyed Steve who struggled to come up with an excuse. He smirked slightly. Despite his new physique, Steve still didn’t know how to actually talk to a woman. “You don’t like music?” he asked, turning on the charm as if he were back in Brooklyn on a double date with Steve. At least he still had one thing Steve didn’t._

“ _I do actually,” Peggy said as she continued to maintain eye contact with Steve, almost ignoring Bucky completely. “I might even, when this is all over, go dancing.” She cocked an eyebrow. Steve said nothing._

“ _Then what are we waiting for?” Bucky asked, taking a slight step towards her. Knowing any second, she would turn to acknowledge him._

_She didn’t._

“ _The right partner.” She maintained eye contact with Steve, who again said nothing._

_The rejection stung, leaving Bucky dumbfounded. The role reversal was jarring. He watched as Peggy walked away._

“ _I’m invisible…”_

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**London. May 17, 2014.**

Your laptop buzzed quietly, the data-analysis program quickly scanned the decrypted files.

Since arriving in London two weeks ago, you and Bucky had learned more about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s and HYDRA's programs and dealings. You discovered there was a 20-year gap in between when Bucky fell from the HYDRA train in the Alps until his first HYDRA mission – the assassination of President John F. Kennedy on November 22, 1963. You hadn’t been able to find any documentation to account for that chunk of lost time.

The infiltration of S.H.I.E.L.D. by HYDRA ran deep; it might as well be founded by HYDRA. Over the last 60 years, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s once noble purpose had warped and twisted. With the facts laid out in front of you, you began to question some of your own actions while working for them, feeling you had been used.

You looked down at the picture in your hand, the one you had pulled off your desk that night at the Triskelion.

It had been taken after Hunter's high school graduation. Hunter smiled back at you in her red graduation cap and gown, hand raised in a peace sign. You hugged her waist, beaming up at her, full of pride.

At 12 years old, you couldn't wait to grow up and be just like her. She was so cool. She had taught you all about computers. She introduced you to almost all your favorite things, Star Wars, Supernatural, and alternative music. She encouraged you to be yourself unapologetically. She defended you at every turn. She gave up so much so you could have the best life possible.

You ran your fingers over her face, smiling slightly. Tears clouded your vision. "Happy Dirty 30, Dean," you whispered, using her nickname; as the eldest, she insisted on being referred to as the older Winchester brother. If she were here, she'd tell you to shut the fuck up about her age and claim she was still better looking than you. "So much has happened since we last talked," you said, sniffling. Hunter had always been your sounding board. She was blunt but kind, almost always unbiased. "I wish you were here."

The bedroom door opened. You quickly folded up the photo and shoved it into your back pocket, wiping your eyes. Bucky emerged, squeezing the ends of his wet hair with a small towel. He leaned against the door frame, "Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," you said, your voice cracked slightly. You pretended to look busy at the computer.

He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you carefully. "You okay?"

You cleared your throat. "Yeah," giving your voice an exaggerated uptick. "There are just millions of pages here and we have learned so much. But, we haven't even scratched the surface." You ran a hand through your hair. "It's going to take years to go through all of these files."

"Well good thing, we got nothin' but time," Bucky said lightly. You gave a slight snort. "Now, what's really bothering you?" He sat down in the seat across from you.

For someone who didn't really talk about his emotions, he was certainly willing to help you move through yours. He eyed you knowingly, waiting for you to answer. "You are almost too observant, Sarge," You deflected.

"Well, I was the sniper for the Howling Commandos," he chuckled.

A beat of silence passed between the two of you.

You sighed through your nose and sat back in your chair. "It's Hunter's birthday today. She would have been 30 years old." You picked at your cuticles. "This day is just difficult every year."

Bucky nodded, but stayed silent.

You smiled. "I'll be fine."

Another few moments of silence passed, only broken by your occasional sniffles.

Bucky patted the table twice. "Come on," he said, "You need a drink."

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Whip and Fiddle. London. May 17, 2014.**

This wasn't the first time you and Bucky had ventured out of the safe-house. You knew he hated wearing the nano mask, so you tried limiting the use of it as much as possible. But given the nature of the establishment that you were about to enter, it was necessary.

"We don't have to do this, Sarge," you said, turning to face him. You had jacked some hair of an unsuspecting backpacker at the Eurostar Train Station. His features now boasted a pointy chin, aquiline nose, and deep brown eyes replacing his strong jaw and steel-blue eyes. His now clean-shaven face was scattered with beauty marks and freckles. In an effort to make him look like a completely new person, you had forgone using the wig and the voice modulation. His hair was pulled up in a half bun using one of Lila's multicolored hair ties. "I know the mask makes you feel claustrophobic. We can just run and get drinks from the liquor store."

Bucky attempted to shrug nonchalantly, but you could tell he was uncomfortable. He pulled on his leather gloves nervously. "We were planning on coming here anyway," he said, "And pictures of me are bound to be all over the walls."

You sighed. Bucky had wanted to come here. He wanted to see the place where he and the rest of the Howling Commandos had spent so much time. He was desperate to learn of new memories. "Okay, but we can leave at any time you want to. Just say the word." He nodded and opened the door to the pub.

The Whip and Fiddle was warm and inviting. Dark wood paneling lined the walls which were covered in various Captain America and Howling Commandos memorabilia. There were posters, numerous black and white pictures, and framed front pages of the London Times newspaper decorating the walls. The flooring was black and white tile placed in a checkerboard pattern. The bartop was black and white marble. Black metal stools were bolted to the floor. An upright piano was tucked away in one corner of the room. The air smelled of whiskey and oak. The pub was a little busy but it wasn't loud, at least for now. Big Band music could be heard playing over the speakers. Some couples were dancing in the small space by the piano.

You and Bucky took off your coats and hung them on a rack by the door. Choosing seats off the far side of the bar, both of you were greeted by the barkeep who was polishing a glass with a small hand towel.

"What can I get ya?" You were slightly surprised; his accent was American.

"Two glasses of scotch, please," Bucky said, looking at you.

You nodded in agreement, "No ice."

The barkeep nodded, grabbing two glasses from underneath the counter. "Haven't seen you around here before," he said, filling the glasses.

Bucky nudged you with his elbow playfully, "This one here is a huge fan of Captain America, so she just had to come and see where he used to hang out on his furloughs during World War II."

You clasped your hands under your chin. Two could play that game. "I'm actually more interested in learning more about the rest of the Howling Commandos," you laughed. "Especially the one named Sergeant Barnes; he seems very interesting." 

Bucky gave you a shit-eating grin, "He does have a helluva handsome face." You rolled your eyes.

"Well, you've come to the right place," the barkeep said, sliding you each a glass of scotch. "Name's Tim Dugan. I own the Whip and Fiddle." He reached over the bar to shake both of your hands.

You raised an eyebrow. "Any relation to Dum Dum Dugan?"

"He's my grandfather," Tim said proudly, pointing to a framed picture of Dum Dum on the wall. "My full name is Timothy Alloysius Cadwell Dugan III." You glanced at the picture and then back to Tim. You could see the resemblance now; their eyes were the same.

Bucky smiled, taking a sip of his scotch. "You must know all kinds of stories."

You nodded eagerly.

"The old man would tell us stories about his and the Cap's time overseas all the time," Tim said leaning against the bar. "He was so proud of his time serving with them. After Cap downed the Valkryie, he took over command, you know. Had Sergeant Barnes been alive, I don't doubt he would have been the new leader. So Pops had some big shoes to fill."

"From what I've read, he did a good job," you said.

Tim smiled. "Ya know how the Howling Commandos met?”

You shook your head, sipping your scotch.

“Well Pops, Gabe Jones and Bucky Barnes were all captured after the Battle of Azzano, becoming prisoners of war. They were taken to Kreischberg to work at a secret HYDRA weapons facility. There were so many POWs working in that factory. Dr. Johann Schmidt, the head of HYDRA, and Colonel Lohmer thought that by separating soldiers from their respective companies and platoons and placing them in cells with other prisoners of different nationalities they would be too busy fighting with each other to fight against the HYDRA guards.” 

You felt Bucky stiffen at the name Lohmer. You rested your hand on his knee.

“Didn’t work out too well in their favor in the end,” Tim continued. “They all met because they were placed in the same cell.”

"Sounds like HYDRA underestimated people's hatred of the Nazi party," you said twirling the scotch in the glass, releasing its smoky undertones.

"Yeah, a common enemy can really bind people together," Bucky said downing his scotch. Tim poured him another glass.

"Ain't that the truth," Tim said, "Anyway, World War II's most elite squad was formed right there." He pointed over to a small table by the piano. You leaned back in your stool to get a better look at the table. A small plaque on the wall marked the historical spot. You tried to imagine all 7 commandos squeezed around that one table.

"Tim!" a voice called from the back of the pub, "we need you back in the kitchen!"

Tim smiled, topping off your glass. "It's on the house," he said, gesturing to yours and Bucky's drinks.

Bucky nodded his head in gratitude.

"Thank you, Tim," you raised your glass to him as he walked from behind the bar. You looked over to Bucky. His gaze rested on the small table next to the piano. He looked to be somewhere far away. You squeezed his knee, "You okay?"

He nodded his head and looked back to you. "Lohmer, the HYDRA colonel, Tim mentioned. What he didn't say was that Dum Dum and the rest of the Commandos arranged "an accident" for him after he beat the absolute dog shit outta me for knocking ammunition over. They phrase "you fuck with one of us; you fuck with all of us" was never more apt. That’s when the friendship between us was truly cemented." Bucky’s Brooklyn accent became more prominent almost everyday, especially when he used the more colorful words in his vocabulary. 

You placed a hand on his arm. "They sound like a pretty loyal bunch."

Bucky laughed, finishing off his scotch. "Almost to a fault..." he trailed off, lost in thought again.

"You know, my sister used to be obsessed with the 1940s aesthetic," you said in an attempt to distract him from his dark thoughts. "She had all of these vinyl records of various Big Band hits and would play them often. When he was feeling up to it, my grandfather would teach us various dances. I was never any good at them," you said. Bucky turned to face you, giving you his full attention.

"She always wanted to find a jazz club that played swing music just so she could dress up and live out her 1940s fantasy where a young Navy nurse finds a handsome Army Air Force pilot to run away with." You laughed and shook your head. "I think a fitting way to honor her one day would be to find such a place and dance the night away." You sighed, twirling your glass on the bar. "Who knows? Maybe when this is all over..." you mused, looking back to Bucky.

He gave you a smoldering smirk. Even with the nano mask, you knew this smile was undeniably James Buchanan Barnes, 1940s Brooklyn playboy. "Then what are we waiting for?" he said lowly, turning on the charm. He nodded toward the makeshift dance floor, extending his hand.

You tore your gaze from his eyes to his extended hand and then back to his face. Quickly finishing your scotch before your courage faded, "Not a damn thing," you breathed and took his hand.

A slower number came over the speakers, as Bucky pulled you over to the piano. You recognized it from one of your sister's records as "The Very Thought of You." It had been one of her favorites, as well as hers. You were fond of the use of the saxophone. You smiled.

Bucky pulled you in close, wrapping his arm around your waist. One of your hands rested on his shoulder as the fingers of your right hand intertwined with his. He spun you in lazily circles around the dance floor. As the song progressed, you leaned in closer, your eyelids fluttered closed. You felt his jawline rest against the side of your head, his nose almost in your hair. You inhaled deeply; he smelled of scotch and earthy body soap with a tinge of metal. He pulled your intertwined hands in closer to where the back of your hand rested against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong. You felt your own; it fluttered like a bird.

As the song came to a close, both of you pulled away slightly; his eyes gazed into your own. Your mouths were almost touching; his eyes flicked down to your lips and then back to your eyes. He gave you a small smile which you returned, leaning in slightly.

Suddenly, the music changed to an upbeat swing number. Both of you jumped in surprise; the moment vanished.

More couples flooded the dance floor to show off their moves. Bucky laughed out loud, his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. You laughed too, a slight heat spread through your cheeks.

Bucky continued to twirl you around the dance floor, showing off with low dips and small lifts. He never once let you fall and simply laughed when you accidentally stepped on his toes.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


As the night went on and the patronage at the pub slowed, you and Bucky retreated to your former seats at the bar. While munching on mixed nuts and stuffed olives and ordering more rounds of scotch, you talked about your families, likes, and dislikes.

You told him of your absolute disdain for bananas. The time when you and your sister got absolutely sloshed on wine coolers and dared each other to streak across the backyard as it snowed resulting in brutal head colds the next day. 

He informed you that his mother taught him how to dance. How despite his athletic prowess in school, he loved learning new things more.

You laughed out loud when you realized just how dirty his sense of humor was. He pretended to act shocked when he found out yours was just as fucked up.

Something about being in a familiar environment brought more of Bucky's memories to light.

"So, one of my favorite movies growing up was Disney's version of Cinderella," you started.

"Wait, Disney made more movies?" Bucky said excitedly.

"Don't worry, the entire film catalog is it's own pop-culture education unit," you said laughing, "Anyway, towards the end of her life, Ilene Woods, the voice of Cinderella, suffered from Alzheimer's disease. The main song from that movie is called "A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes"; she couldn't remember that she was the one who sang it. But, her caregivers noticed that when she was having a hard time she only seemed to be comforted by that song whenever it played. So, they played it for her as often as possible."

Bucky eyed you curiously.

"I think that is what is happening here," you gestured around the pub. "The music, the dancing, and the familiar setting are triggering good memories and more aspects of your personality to reveal themselves. I mean we have been here for hours. You still have the nano mask on and you look even more relaxed than you were at Clint's."

Bucky raised his eyebrows in realization. "Huh," he simply said.

"Unless I'm reading it all wrong..." you ventured.

"No, no, I think you're right, doll," he smiled, "Means we were right about needing to be in places where events actually occurred."

You smiled and puffed your chest out proudly. "Of course, I'm right."

Bucky laughed and poked you in the side. You squeaked and playfully swatted him away. 

A beat of silence passed between you two.

You rested your head on your hand, propping your elbow on the bar top. "Thank you, Bucky, for tonight, I think I needed this as much as you did," you smiled, staring at him.

"Anytime, doll," he smiled, returning your gaze. "I should thank you too. Tonight, I gained new insights and found the right dance partner."

You felt a heat creep up your neck, you looked down. You quickly held up your glass, "To the right partner," you toasted.

Bucky held your gaze, "To the right partner," he repeated, clinking his glass with yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> Dancing with Bucky is an ultimate fantasy of mine.
> 
> Also, don't hate me for the kiss block. Like I said it will be worth it in the end. 
> 
> Also also, Disney's Cinderella is perfection.
> 
> Please comment and leave kudos if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote from Captain America: The First Avenger, between Steve Rogers and Dum Dum Dugan.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH, TRAUMA. (If you want to avoid this, you can skip past the first section of the chapter)

“ _ **I watched my friends die. You'd think that'd be as bad as it gets, right? Nope. Wasn't the worst part.”**_

  
  


“ _ **The worst part is that you didn't.”**_

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Telluride, Colorado. December 2009.**

_The main thoroughfare through town sparkled warmly with thousands of Christmas lights. Tourists, bundled up in festive scarves and hats, wandered the sidewalks, moseying in and out of shops and restaurants. Light snow had begun to fall. You smiled, making a mental note to stop by your favorite shops later this week for some last-minute Christmas shopping. After a seven-hour drive, you were just happy to almost home; although, you weren't looking forward to the 20-minute drive up the mountain._

_You hadn’t been home in 5 months; you left for your second year of college after your grandfather’s funeral in August. Hunter had stayed behind indicating she needed to take care of his affairs. You had begged her to come back with you, but she insisted. You knew, despite everything, she couldn’t bear to give up your grandfather’s mountain cabin. It would be nice to spend Christmas in the mountains. You loved Fort Collins, but it was almost too crowded. You longed for the smell of pines and the silence of the forest._

_Even though you and Hunter talked almost every day using some form of communication, you noticed she had become more distant. Hopefully, you could convince her to come back with you this time around. You planned to pose the idea of turning the cabin into a rental for tourists who wanted to “rough it.” With your grandfather gone, Hunter was alone in Telluride. No one deserved to be alone._

_You smiled as the cabin came into view. White smoke poured out of the chimney. The front porch lights were lit. You could see the Christmas tree in the window. You told Hunter not to bother with it this year, but she knew how much you loved the glow the tree lights gave the room._

_You pulled underneath the carport, silencing Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas”. You took a moment to stretch before grabbing your duffle bag and Hunter’s favorite bottle of whiskey from the back seat. You made your way up the steps, careful to avoid the icy patches. Unlocking the door, you pushed your way inside eager to get out of the frigid air._

“ _I’m home!” you called as you closed the door. You placed down your bag, removed your jacket, and slipped off your boots. The cabin was silent aside from the crackling of the fire in the woodstove._

“ _Hunter?” you called out again. “Where are you?” you moved into the kitchen, setting down the whiskey on the counter. The kitchen was spotless._ “Good,” _you thought,_ “one less thing for me to do. Merry Christmas to me!” _Between the two of you, you were the more organized one. You usually deep cleaned the cabin every time you came home._

_Hunter had yet to greet you. You shrugged it off, assuming she was just “plugged in”. You took a glass from the cabinet and poured yourself a finger of whiskey. “I have whiskey!” you singsonged, taking a shot._

_You moved through the living room, noting it was clean as well. Stockings hung by the woodstove. There was a lone present under the tree. You padded down the hall, grateful for the protection of thick socks against the_ _cold wood_ _floor._

“ _Hunter, get off the computer, tell your hacker friends your baby sister is home!” you shouted, knocking on her door. No answer. You rolled your eyes, opening the door._

_Hunter’s room was spotless, nothing was out of place. You raised an eyebrow, Hunter’s room was always chaos._

“ _I’m an organized mess. Don’t fucking clean my room; I can’t find shit anywhere for weeks_ _whenever you do_ _.” She would tell you every time you went on a cleaning spree._

 _Her window was open. The curtains fluttered in the breeze, drawing in the scent of the forest and flakes of snow. On the bed, Hunter laid on her side, headphones on her head._ “She must have fallen asleep waiting up for me,” _you thought._

_You shivered and made your way across the room. “Goddammit, Hunter, you’re going to freeze.” You pulled her window shut. Before you turned around to face the bed._

_Something wasn’t right._

“ _Hunter?” you said kneeling down by the bed. Since you came in the room, she had not stirred. You shook her shoulder, pushing her headphones off her head. “Hunter?” You touched her face; her skin was cool._ “It could just be because the window was open,” _you thought._

_You felt your heart begin to tighten in your chest; it raced._

“ _Hunter! Hunter! C’mon! This isn’t funny.”_

_You shook her again more violently this time. The movement caused her to limply roll onto her back. A lump formed in your throat; your mouth went dry. “No, no, no,” you leaned your ear down to her mouth to feel and listen for breathing._

_Nothing._

_Your eyes burned. Panic began to sink in._

“ _HUNTER! WAKE UP!”_

_Silence._

“ _HUNTER! PLEASE!”_

_You shook her shoulders._

“ _DON’T DO THIS!”_

_Your_ _vision blurred._

“ _DON’T LEAVE ME, DEAN! PLEASE!” You wailed._

_You felt tears spill down your cheeks. Your breathing came in choked sobs as you collapsed onto the bed, clutching Hunter’s body._

_You didn’t remember calling 911._

_You didn’t remember giving her CPR._

_You didn’t remember when EMS arrived._

_You didn’t remember giving a statement to the police._

_All you remembered was the coroner zipping up the black body bag and your heart shattering into a million pieces._

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Lambeth. London. June 2014.**

You fiddled with the brass cuff on your wrist. It was once Hunter’s most prized possession. She was obsessed with your family’s Viking heritage.

“They say Vikings used to wear arm rings as a sign of the oath they swore to their king or jarl. It reminded them to keep their promise,” she said, proudly.

When she had found one she liked, she had worn it every day. Until the day you found her body. The arm ring had been in the box under the Christmas tree.

Your laptop buzzed quietly, various analysis programs were running. You had finished compiling all of the files, Natasha had leaked to the internet.

There were millions of pages, plus audio and video files, most with multiple layers of encryption. You were grateful for your multiple terabyte hard drives. Now, it was time for your decryption programs to work their magic and to sort through them. This left you and Bucky with a lot of free time.

Over the past month, you and Bucky had fallen into a routine. In the morning, you would detangle yourselves from one another. You still gravitated toward each other in your sleep, always waking up with your arms around one another in various positions. Neither of you acknowledged it, not wanting to make things awkward. Most nights passed uninterrupted by nightmares, but they still occurred. When they did, the other would offer comfort. For you, it was back rubs and the occasional cup of tea. For Bucky, it was spooning him and sometimes singing softly to lull him back to sleep.

You and Bucky would workout in order to keep up with your hand-to-hand training. After three years, at a desk job, you were a tad out of shape. Bucky was a good trainer – patient and honest. Plus, it offered a multitude of opportunities for physical contact. Your technique and strength improved every day.

You would then eat breakfast together while you checked the computer programs for newly decrypted documents. You would pass along any relevant information to Bucky which he would then write down in one of his now many notebooks. They were filled with details of various Howling Commando missions and his personal history, including memories of Steve.

In the afternoons, you would educate him on the things he missed; always letting him choose. So far, he had seen all of the films in the Star Wars Saga, numerous classic Disney films, and was halfway through _I Love Lucy!_ You had downloaded various books and articles regarding various scientific discoveries and innovations since the 1940s, which he devoured. He was enamored with Carl Sagan, Stephen Hawking, and Neil deGrasse Tyson. His appetite for new information was insatiable.

In return, he taught you how to properly handle a variety of weapons, different types of guns and knives. He also gave you techniques to practice to heighten your situational awareness. “The world doesn’t cease to exist just because you don’t see it,” Bucky said, “Your world is all around you, that includes what is above you and below you.” When you made trips out of the safe-house, he would often have you practice simple drills such as counting all the exits or trying to determine a person’s life story based on their shop purchases. He also taught you Morse code, which you picked up surprisingly easily. You attributed it to your years of musical training.

For the past few weeks, he had been teaching you Romanian. “Our European passports have us as Romanian nationals,” he said, “It would be odd to have a Romanian citizen who can’t speak the language.”

“We could just say I was one of those 90-day fiance things?” you offered. Bucky shook his head with a chuckle. If there was one trend he did not understand in the slightest, it was the world’s obsession with reality television. Unless, it was the Great British Bake Off, but, you knew he would never admit to that out loud.

“Cum te cheamă?” he asked. _(What is your name?)_

“Numele meu este Ana Stanislav,” you replied. _(My name is Ana Stanislav.)_

Bucky insisted on ironing out your story as a Romanian couple whilst speaking Romanian to further your immersion in the language. He also insisted you watch movies whose dialogue you already knew in Romanian.

“Care este ocupaţia ta?” _(What is your occupation?)_

“Sunt programator.” _(I am a computer programmer.)_

“Cine e soțul tău?” _(Who is your husband?)_

“Numele soției mele este Sergei Stanislav.” (My wife’s name is Sergei Stanislav.)

“Wrong word, doll,” Bucky chuckled, “Last I checked, I wasn’t a dame.”

“Damn,” you said, “Numele…soțului…meu este Sergei Stanislav.” _(My…husband’s…name is Sergei Stanislav.)_

“Poftim!” Bucky praised. _(There you go!)_

“îţi mulţumesc foarte mult!” _(Thank you very much!)_ You gave an exaggerated bow.

Your computer dinged notifying you that another file had been decrypted. You turned your attention to your computer, pulling up the file in a separate window.

“Ce este?”, Bucky asked, leaning forward. _(What is it?)_

“Este…” you attempted to answer, scanning the file. _(It’s…)_

It was a lot of code in a plain ASCII text file. Your fingers quickly typed in a few commands into a terminal, in an attempt to organize the code into something readable. “Se pare ca un…” _(It looks like…),_ you stared at the lines of code, “an algorithm?” you cocked your head to the side, squinting at the monitor, “An algorithm for what?”

A new window appeared on your screen, you eyed the lines of code. “It’s huge. This is an entire program.”

Bucky leaned forward, reading the name, “Project Insight?”

You gasped, quickly opening a new Qubes OS window in order to compartmentalize the program from the rest of your machine. According to other documents you had decrypted earlier in the week (your former Level 7 clearance level had not afforded you this information at the time), officially, albeit secretly, Project Insight was a program developed by S.H.I.E.L.D. to protect national security, especially after The Battle of New York. It was “supposed” to neutralize threats before they even happened, using the three Helicarriers that Captain America had crashed into the Potomac. You gave the command to run the program. You watched as thousands of names quickly made their way down your screen.

Your eyes widened, “Holy shit,” you whispered. Another window popped up on your screen. The analysis of the program had been completed.

“Oh gods,” you whispered scrolling through the report, “This a program designed to assess personal information, at least any information that’s digital.” You scrolled through the algorithm. “Social media, bank records, college transcripts, legal case files, phone records; literally anything you do that leaves a digital footprint, this thing reads it,” you sat back in your chair, admittedly impressed by the program.

“Pierce said something about HYDRA giving the world the freedom it deserves and needing a push,” Bucky said, “This must be a list of people who opposed them.”

“It would make sense to out threats to their success,” you scanned through the names: Nick Fury, Anthony Stark, Maria Hill, and Phil Coulson. You continued to scroll through the list.

“Wait! Stop! Go back up a little,” Bucky said, pointing to the screen. “Cooper and Lila’s names are on this list,” he whispered.

“What?” you leaned in closer to see for yourself. “Why? They’re kids.”

“It’s designed to eliminate threats to HYDRA both now and in the future,” Bucky said, sitting back and rubbing his hand down his face.

“Dear Christ,” you muttered. You continued to scroll through names.

One, in particular, caught your eye. Your name was on there. You suspected you would be; your past dealings as a hacker probably put you there. What you didn’t expect was the name under it.

“Bucky,” you whispered. A lump in your throat grew, you swallowed. “Why is my sister’s name on this list?”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**ICE high-speed train. Foothills of the Austrian Alps. June 2014.**

You watched the rain bead across the train windows, blurring the scenery outside. The constant white noise nearly lulled you to sleep. Your breath fogged the glass as you rested your head against the window. You had been traveling for almost 12 hours. First a train from London to Paris, then a train from Paris to Munich, and now, after waiting for the station to reopen, a train from Munich to Innsbruck, Austria.

After finding HYDRA’s Algorithm, you and Bucky decided it would be best to leave the London safe-house that night. Running the program came with the risk of possible detection; there was a possibility it some sort of tracer encoded in it. After your close call in New York, you didn’t want to take any chances.

You had sent the information you discovered to Jessica via your encrypted email. The sudden appearance of your sister’s name on the Project Insight list had you questioning everything. What had she been doing to warrant being a threat to HYDRA? Why was she on the list now? She had been dead for 5 years.

“ _Is it possible she is still alive?”_ you thought.

No, she wasn’t breathing when you found her. You heard the coroner pronounce her dead at the scene. You watched as they cremated her body.

“Y _ou refused to have a last look.”_ Who knows if there even was a body in that cardboard box? If she was alive, then why did she have to fake her own death? There had to have been a good reason for doing so; she wouldn’t abandon you without a valid reason.

You twirled the bracelet on your wrist. Every fiber of your being wanted to believe she was alive. But you didn’t dare to hope; hope would ruin you.

“ _Jessica will get to the bottom of it,”_ you reassured yourself. You had to trust she had it handled.

You felt the seat shift next to you as Bucky sat down.

“Here,” he offered you a coffee.

You took it gratefully, although you were sure you had become immune to caffeine at this point. You had been up for almost 24 hours. Bucky kept telling you to get some rest, but your mind was a barrage of racing thoughts with no place to go.

“I also have this,” he held up a giant prepackaged cookie.

“You gonna share that, Sarge?” you teased.

He laughed and broke the soft cookie in half, handing you the bigger piece. “I swear food has gotten ten times better since the 40s and more outrageous,” he said.

“If you think this giant cookie is outrageous,” you mumbled, your mouth full, “Think again. You have yet to see Japan’s obsession with tiny food, the creative toppings they put on milkshakes and Bloody Mary’s, or the Turducken.”

Bucky laughed. “Looking forward to it.”

“But you are right; the food is ten times better,” you said, nodding in agreement.

You sat in comfortable silence finishing your breakfast. Bucky’s presence was comforting. It was a balm to your raw nerves. You leaned against him slightly.

“How are you doing?” he asked, turning his head to look at you. His gaze searched your face.

“I feel like I’m the one who should be asking that question,” you said, deflecting the conversation away from your current emotional state. “We will be visiting places of important events of your past; most of them associated with painful memories.”

Bucky sighed. “I want to try and remember as much as I can. That means the painful memories too. I want to understand who I once was.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say. What should you say to a man whose memory was stripped from him? All aspects of his identity erased. The confusion he must feel whenever he remembers something new, never knowing for certain if it truly happened. Laura had warned you about triggered memories and how Clint reacted. You were afraid more for him than yourself. But, you understood the need to reclaim what was rightfully his.

You took his hand, interlaced his fingers with yours, and gave it a squeeze. A silent reminder that he wasn’t alone. He squeezed back, his calloused thumb rubbing small circles against your own. A reminder that you weren’t alone either.

A soothing voice came over the train’s PA system. “We are almost to Innsbruck,” Bucky translated, letting go of your hand to clean up.

You nodded, brushing the cookie crumbs off your lap. “So what’s the plan again?”

Bucky took out his tablet you had given him and pulled up the map of defunct HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. safe-houses. “It’s going to take a few hours to get there by car.” He zoomed in on the location. “The issue is the car.”

“And ee can’t exactly rent one or buy one.”

“Exactly…”

You sighed. “So, we are going to have to steal one again, aren’t we?”

Bucky smiled wryly, “I prefer the term borrow.”

“Let’s just make sure it’s one that can handle mountain roads,” you said. “Last thing we need is to get stuck on the side of the road in a “borrowed” car.”

“We can always find a bike,” he teased.

You held up a finger, shaking your head, “Absolutely not.”

“Aw, c’mon, doll, they are easier to hotwire.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Not to mention th-”

“Are faster and more maneuverable,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. The train slowed as it pulled into the station. Both of you packed your gear. “They are also easier to drive off a cliff,” you added, as the train came to a stop. Bucky chuckled and offered his hand to help you up from your seat. You walked into Innsbruck hand in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the idea of you and Bucky teaching each other things. 
> 
> Also, I get the impression, Bucky secretly loves being the little spoon.
> 
> Also also, I used three online translators for the Romanian parts, I hope I didn't fuck up the translation too royally.
> 
> Please comment and give kudos if you like the story, I am really enjoying writing it!!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote from Avengers: Age of Ultron (complete underrated btw, aside from Joss not knowing what to do with female characters) the exchange between Tony Stark and Nick Fury in the Barton Barn.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

_“_ _**Pull me close I feel the water reach around my neck** _

_**Don’t let go just show me that there’s better days ahead** _

_**Make me see how I’m only half the person I should be** _

_**Pull me close set me free from this gravity.”** _

  
  


_~*~*~*~_

**The Austrian Alps. June 2014.**

Pine trees flew past your window as Bucky drove the “borrowed” car up the mountainside. You had managed to find an SUV with 4 wheel drive in a car lot with no cameras close to the train station. Bucky had made quick work of the wiring while you switched the license plates. With your teamwork, you were out of town within the hour.

“It should be just up here,” you checked the map. “According to Clint’s notes, there is a hidden driveway coming up on the left.”

“I haven’t seen another car for miles, no trailheads either,” Bucky said, slowing down slightly.

“That’s good news.” you scanned the roadside. “There it is,” you pointed to a well-hidden driveway. Bucky turned down the small unpaved road lined with pine trees, giving it the appearance of a lush green tunnel. It was 5 miles before the tunnel of trees opened up to a clearing revealing a wood chalet resting on a sheer cliffside. it’s heavy roof gently sloped toward the ground, almost melting into the landscape. An uninterrupted view of the valley below rested just beyond the safe-house. Snow-capped mountains rose out of the ground to the east and west. “Just a “nice” view, Dad?” you snorted.

“Well, we shouldn’t have a problem with anyone sneaking up on us,” Bucky said, his eyes taking in the view. He was just as mesmerized as you were.

The plan was to leave the car running in case you needed to make a quick getaway while Bucky unlocked and cleared the house. Bucky pulled his gun from the waistband of his jeans and opened the car door. You moved over the center console into the driver’s seat.

“If there is any trouble, don’t wait for me, just get out of here,” Bucky said, checking his gun. You handed him the notebook with the S.H.I.E.L.D. safe-house security codes, your fingers brushed, a slight shiver went up your spine.

“I’ll decide what constitutes trouble,” you said. You knew he wouldn’t leave you if it were the other way around. You smiled. “Good luck.”

Bucky gave you a slight smirk and nodded. He stalked towards the house, gun raised. You watched as he punched in the code to unlock the garage and then another to open the door. He disappeared inside. Your hands gripped the steering wheel as the minutes ticked by. Your gut churned.

After ten minutes, you readied your gun and taser disks, only to look up and see Bucky waving you in. Once safely in the garage, you exited the vehicle, returning your gun to your ankle holster.

Bucky shook his head, “You were gonna come in after me, weren’t ya?” He opened the back door to grab the bags.

“You would have done the same for me,” you retorted, nudging him in the ribs with your elbow, as he handed you your laptop bag.

“True.” He nodded in agreement.

“How’s it look in there?”

“I think you’re gonna wanna see it for yourself, doll.”

A small entry hallway opened up to a large open room containing the kitchen, living room, and dining area. Warm wood lined the walls. A modern wrought iron chandelier hung from the exposed beams Plush furniture decorated the space with no shortage of throw pillows and blankets. A large stone fireplace was the centerpiece of the room, stretching from the floor to the ceiling.

But, what drew your attention was the wall of picture windows that framed the valley perfectly. You gasped slightly, drinking in the view. The valley was green with dense forests. A crystal clear river flowed down the mountain and snaked its way into the valley, cutting through the small mountain town below.

Your gaze was drawn to the two doorways on opposite sides of the living area, leading to rooms beyond. You went down the hallway on the left. It led to the master suite complete with its own picture windows, lined by thick drapes on either side. Your feet sank into the plush carpeting. A king-size bed rested against the opposite wall from the windows. “Goddamn,” you whispered. You gave a small laugh. You heard Bucky come down the hall.

“Didn’t think S.H.I.E.L.D. would spring for something like this,” you said.

“Clint said this was used for witness protection,” he mused. “If you are going to be stuck somewhere for an extended period of time, you may as well be comfortable.”

“I suppose,” you said, looking into the bathroom. You noticed a free-standing tub. You would definitely take advantage of that at a later time.

“There are cameras on the outside of the building. I found the control room when I swept the place.”

“That’s good,” you said, moving back into the bedroom. “It’s better than what we had in London. I’ll check them over later to make sure they are not transmitting any feed to anyone.”

You noticed Bucky stood in the middle of the room with both go-bags in hand. “Put those down,” you moved to stand beside him, “let’s see what’s in the kitchen.” He placed your bag on the bed, but kept his hand on his own.

“There’s a few more bedrooms down the other hallway,” he said. He turned, closing the distance between you. Your breathing hitched. “We don’t have to share a bed anymore if you don’t want to.”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised. You had gotten used to having someone sleep next to you. It made you feel safe. “Do you not want to?” You crossed your arms over your chest, shifting your weight onto your back foot, creating some space between you.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, doll,” he said, one corner of his lip ticked upward slightly; he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to assume that you still wanted to.”

“Always the gentleman,” you chuckled softly. “No, I think if I woke up in the middle of the night and you weren’t…”

“Yeah, me too,” Bucky replied lowly.

You smiled reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair by his ear. The gesture was innocent, yet intimate. You were suddenly aware of the closeness of your bodies. Your heart hammered in your chest.

You locked eyes with Bucky. His pupils dilated. You held his gaze.

For a moment, the world went quiet as if only you two existed.

Bucky smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. You smiled, biting your lip as you stepped back from him.

You took his bag and placed it on the bed. “Come on,” you took his hand, “if I’m starving, I know you are too.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. August 2014.**

Clouds rolled over the mountains as the wind picked up, bringing cooler air down from the summits with it. This was going to make your marksmanship training more difficult today. Bucky smiled, he knew you were ready for a challenge. You made good progress in your training over the past few months.

He gathered the sniper rifle, his Sig, your Smith & Wesson, extra ammo, and plenty of homemade target sheets before walking down the small path leading to the firing range at the edge of the forest. He had created it with some of the firewood that had been stacked on the side of the house. Small logs marked out distances to the targets.

Almost two months had passed since you and Bucky suddenly left London. Despite the slight inconvenience of traveling down the mountain for supplies every so often, Bucky came to appreciate the level of privacy offered by the isolated chalet.

Here he could be himself. No suffocating nano mask. No leather gloves. No baseball caps. It was nice to not have to hide. To not have to worry about hurting anyone. To not be used for anyone’s personal gain. He was finally able to make his own choices.

Bucky began to set out the weapons and checked them over. He didn’t need the enhancement to his hearing from the serum to hear your footsteps come down the path. Stealth was a skill you would need to work on.

“Kinda a windy day to do marksmanship training, eh, Sarge?” you asked.

Bucky turned to face you. The wind whipped your hair around your head, you pushed it out of your face and smiled.

You had always made him feel at ease; that’s one of the main reasons he left with you that night. Lately, he noticed himself actively looking for you if you weren’t around. Your presence was intoxicating. He longed to be near you. Bucky smiled. “Not every encounter will have perfect weather conditions. You gotta be prepared for everything.” He walked up to meet you halfway.

You scrunched up your nose as you pushed your hair out of your face again, reminding Bucky of another time near a forest in Germany. He smiled, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind your ear. “But there is no need to make it more challenging.” He waved you over to a large log that doubled as a bench and a work table. He sat down on it and beckoned you to sit at his feet. He watched you as you made your way over; your eyebrow raised questioningly. “Can’t have your hair all in your face, doll,” he said as you sat down on the lush grass, facing away from him.

Bucky gently gathered your hair together and started to french braid your hair back. He noticed your shoulders relax as he ran his fingers through your hair. You sighed in contentment. With every plait he made, he could smell your shampoo; it was warm and floral. He meticulously braided your hair, taking his time.

“Where did Sergeant Barnes learn how to braid?” you asked.

“My ma worked two jobs, and I had three little sisters. Ma wasn’t always available to do their hair in the morning, being the oldest I was expected to help out,” Buck said fondly.

“Hmmm, Hunter did my hair before school almost every day too,” you hummed, “until I learned how to do a ponytail myself.”

“I also braided Peggy’s hair once during Howling Commando mission when she ran out of pins,” he breathed a laugh, “The look on Steve’s face was priceless, thought I was tryin' to steal his girl.”

“And were you?”

“Nah, anyone with half a brain could see that Peggy only had eyes for Steve,” he said, “Guess that means Steve has half a brain because he was under the impression that Peggy and Howard were together.” He chuckled, “Howard told me once that Steve thought the word “fondue” was a euphemism for sex.”

You laughed out loud, “That’s fucking hilarious.”

Bucky smiled to himself; he loved hearing you laugh. He secured the braid with one of Lila’s many hair ties she had given him.

He remembered more memories every day, not all of them pleasant or clear, but nothing he couldn’t handle, not with you around to bring him back. He watched you run your hands carefully over the braid.

“Not bad, Sarge,” you said, turning to face him, “Can I book you for another appointment, same time next week?” You tilted your head to the side.

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” he shrugged. He took your hand in his own as he helped you up. His hand holding onto yours a little longer than necessary. “To make sure I’m not booked,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes, pushing your shoulders back, moving closer to him, “Well, I would hope you would make an exception for me,” you teased.

Bucky laughed, “That’s a possibility.”

You smiled, “Good.”

“So,” Bucky cleared his throat, stepping away from you. “I thought we could practice with the M24 today?” Bucky gestured to the sniper rifle.

You nodded, “Sounds good.”

Bucky picked up the rifle and handed it to you. You placed the butt of the stock against your right shoulder and peered down the scope, making sure to keep your hand off the trigger. “It’s been a long time since I shot a rifle. Granddad had a few, but he figured we would never use them so we didn’t train with them often.”

Bucky moved in behind you to make adjustments to your form. “Loosen your stance a little, you want to be comfortable yet stable. You moved slightly, adjusting your stance. Your back brushing against his chest.

He brought his hand to your right elbow and moved it a little higher. “You need to make sure there is a good pocket for the rifle to rest,” he said, his lips almost brushed your ear. He felt you shiver slightly.

“Now the most important thing to remember when firing a rifle, such as this, to ensure you hit your target is your breathing.” He placed his hand in the middle of your back. “You want to breathe normally. Before you fire make sure to empty your lungs and hold your breath. Fire before you get uncomfortable.”

Bucky felt your breathing even out. “Good,” he praised, “you can fire whenever you are ready.” He felt your back move up and down a few more times before you held your breath and lightly squeezed the trigger. The shot went wide.

You sighed through your nose, frowning “I missed.”

Bucky chuckled, “And the second most important thing is patience. You wait for the right moment to shoot because sometimes you only get one chance.” You nodded. “Again.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. August 2014.**

“So you will never guess what I found,” you called to Bucky as you lowered yourself down on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you. You placed two bowls of pasta on the coffee table.

“What’s that, doll?” Bucky asked. You heard clinking of glasses and the pouring of liquid.

“Just come see,” you said, picking up your bowl to dig in. Bucky came around the couch, placing a glass of whiskey for you on the table. “Thank you very much.”

Bucky smiled, “Thank you for cooking.” He picked up his bowl, blowing on the pasta before taking a bite.

You smiled, “Anytime.” You opened your laptop and brought up the video files. “So you know, how for a while, Steve traveled around the US selling war bonds for Senator Brandt, as Captain America. Basically, US pro-war propaganda.”

Bucky nodded, “Peggy referred to him as a dancing monkey on multiple occasions.”

“Well I found videos of one of those performances and some of the short films he did.”

“Oh ho! I gotta see this,” Bucky smiled.

“I haven’t seen these yet; I was waiting to show you.” You clicked on the first video. Captain America’s performance at Radio City Music Hall.

> “ _ **Who's strong and brave, here to save the American Way?”**_
> 
> “ _Not all of us can storm a beach or drive a tank. But there’s still a way all of us can fight.”_

You snorted bringing your hand to your mouth at the sight of Steve Rogers running out on stage in a spandex suit. Complete with small wings sprouting out from the side of his head. Your shoulders moved up and down in silent laughter.

“So, this is what that punk was doing while I was gettin’ shot at in Italy?” Bucky laughed.

> “ _ **Who vows to fight like a man, for what’s right, night and day?”**_
> 
> “ _Series E Defense Bonds. Each one you buy is a bullet in the barrel of your best guy’s gun.”_

“Try saying that fives times faster,” you commented.

Bucky snorted and attempted to repeat the phrase faster and faster becoming tongue-tied as he did so. You threw your head back in a new bout of laughter.

Steve continued to give his sales pitch. Bucky laughed and shook his head in second-hand embarrassment. You watched a caricature of Adolph Hitler sneak his way towards Steve through the chorus line.

“Uh oh!” Bucky said as the pseudo-Hitler attempted to attack only for Steve to give him an exaggerated fake punch in the jaw. Bucky leaned against you, laughing so hard that he made no sound.

You squeezed your eyes shut. Your sides ached. You wiped tears from your eyes. You continued to laugh as Steve picked up a motorcycle with three of the singers perched on it.

“Look at this fuckin’ showoff!” Bucky wheezed.

> “ _ **The star-spangled man with a plan!”**_

The show ended with a crescendo, complete with fireworks and thunderous applause.

You and Bucky continued to laugh after the video ended. One look at each other’s faces sent you into new bouts of laughter.

Moments such as this one were precious to you. A welcome distraction from the task at hand and the overwhelming emotions that came with it. You smiled, looking at Bucky. The genuine joy that washed over his features made your heart flutter. It made you happy to know that he was more willing to express himself around you. Maybe that meant you could be too.

Bucky’s laughter died down. He took a swig of his whiskey and looked at you. You looked away, heat rising to your cheeks.

“You said there’s more of these?” he asked, smiling.

You chuckled, pulling up another video, “Absolutely.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. Late September 2014.**

_Bucky silently made his way down a dark hallway, his submachine gun drawn. He searched for something, but he couldn’t remember exactly what._

_Screams erupted from down the hallway. He stopped and listened carefully._

_The buzz of electricity._

_Pained screams filled with pure agony._

_A woman’s screams._

_Bucky’s eyes went wide; it was you._

_He quickly darted down the hallway towards the sounds. All the effort to move as stealthily as possible forgotten._

“ _Y/N!” he called out._

_You screamed, again and again, sobbing in between each one._

_Bucky came to a screeching halt outside an open door. Inside, surrounded by HYDRA agents, you were strapped to a chair. He swallowed thickly._

_The Memory Suppressing Machine._

_The metal plates encircled your face as you writhed in agony with each burst of electricity. He knew all too well the pure unadulterated pain of being unmade. He could see the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your breathing was heavy and fast. In between your screams, he could hear you chanting one word over and over._

“ _James...James...James.”_

_Bucky’s mind went blank; his body_ _shook_ _. He charged into the room, blinded by rage. He unloaded his weapon onto the surrounding HYDRA agents;_ _only for the bullets to hit their targets then fall flat to the floor_ _. They turned to face him; their mouths curled up in wicked smiles._

_He tossed the weapon to the ground angrily. Withdrawing his knife from his belt, he moved to stab the nearest HYDRA agent, Brock Rumlow. The knife sank into Rumlow’s chest but appeared to have no effect. Bucky stabbed at him again and again and again. Rumlow laughed cruelly, not even bothering to fight back._

_Desperate, Bucky swung at him wildly with his fists. His punches landed, but they sank into Rumlow’s flesh and bounced back._

_Bucky grunted in frustration his movements became more erratic and feral._

_He had to get to you._

_He had to save you._

_He wouldn’t let them take away all of the things he loved about you. Your smile. The way your hair smelled. Your selflessness. Your sarcasm. The way you sang under your breath while you worked. Your laugh. Your fierceness. Your reassuring touch. Your determination. Your eagerness to learn new things that matched his own. The light that danced behind your gorgeous eyes every time you looked into his._

_He would die before he let HYDRA take you._

_Several hands grabbed at him, moving to pull him out of the room. He fought their hold, making small steps toward the chair._

“ _Y/N!” he shouted, his voice hoarse from exertion._ _He watched you struggle against the restraints. Your eyes squeezed shut; tears escaping as you wept. You continued to chant his name over and over._ _His eyes filled with tears. “Don’t..._ _don’t_ _do this!” he yelled. “_ _Stop!_ _Take me! Take me instead.” He hung his head, defeated._

_Your agonized wailing ceased._

_Bucky stopped struggling against the agents’ hold. He looked up to see you sit up slowly. Your hair plastered to your face with sweat; your ragged breaths became more even. Your eyes were unfocused. The metal plates had made small bruises and cuts on your face. “Y/N?” he whispered._

_You didn’t respond._

_Out of the darkness, Alexander Pierce approached_ _the chair_ _. You looked at him._

“ _Soldier?” he asked._

_You turned to look Bucky in the eye. Your eyes were dead, emotionless, cold._

“ _No,” Bucky gasped, "no, no, no!" The breath went out of him. “Y/N.”_

“ _Ready to comply,” you said in a monotonic voice._

  
  


“GAH!” Bucky awoke with a start, shooting upright. His chest heaved with ragged breaths. His body was slick with sweat. He quickly looked around, confused before registering where he was.

The chalet. Austria.

He swallowed thickly and tried to steady his breathing. He felt something stir beside him and turned quickly to face it.

It was you. You were unharmed. He rubbed his hand over his face. _“_ _Just dream,”_ he thought. He felt jittery. His hands shook.

You looked at him bleary-eyed. “Sarge?” His sudden movement must have woke you.

“Just another nightmare, Y/N,” Bucky assured, not wanting to interrupt your sleep. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

He climbed out of bed and walked into the living room. He needed air.

He paced a while before sitting down in a chair next to the living room window. Shortly after settling in, you had discovered that the picture window could open slightly allowing a breeze to waft through the chalet. He opened the window and breathed in the cold night air.

Autumn had come to the Alps, bringing cooler days and even colder nights. Bucky suspected they would see snow soon.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, in an effort to steady his nerves.

The nightmare had felt real, visceral. He replayed the events over and over in his mind. He had felt utterly helpless. He had tried to save you and failed. He was ready to sacrifice himself in order to save you.

“ _Clint was right.”_

Bucky did care for you deeply. He would readily sacrifice himself in order to save you if the time ever came. After all you had done for him. After all you had been through. You didn’t deserve any more pain.

He loved you.

The realization terrified him. After all of the horrible things he had done, he didn’t deserve to love anyone. And, he certainly didn’t deserve love in return. He was a monster. He didn’t want to hurt you. To lose you would ruin him.

He put his head in his hands.

He heard you pad into the living room. He didn’t look up.

He saw your bare feet approach before you knelt down in front of him.

“James,” you whispered, pushing his hair back. He looked up and watched your eyes search his face. Your brow furrowed in concern. The worry evident behind your eyes. “What happened?” you asked.

Bucky shook his head. “It was just one of my normal nightmares,” he minimized.

“You and I both know that’s a crock of shit,” you stated, placing your hands on his knees.

Bucky didn’t say anything. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you about the nightmare or his realization. The relationship you had right now was good, easy. It was more than he deserved. He didn’t want to jeopardize it. He needed to bury his feelings for you.

You studied his face, searching for answers. He looked down, away from your gaze. His pointer finger and thumb circled each other, attempting to ease the tightness around his heart.

“It was different this time wasn’t it?” you intoned.

There was a brief moment of silence before Bucky nodded slightly, closing his eyes. He felt your soft hands delicately cup his face. He instinctively leaned into your touch, knowing it would allay his fears, at least for a little while. Your thumbs stroked his cheekbones for a moment. Bucky felt the tension leave his face and shoulders at your ministrations. He sighed.

“C’mon,” you said standing up, leaning to shut the window before offering him your hand. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Bucky took your hand and stood up. Before you could walk away, he pulled you into an embrace, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulder. He buried his face in your neck inhaling the scent of your hair. He felt your arms wrap around him and give him a squeeze. Bucky could feel your heartbeat against his chest as you melted into him. The desire for closeness evident between you. Both of you stayed this way for a few moments, neither one wanting to be the first to let go.

Eventually, both of you pulled away. Bucky smiled slightly, “I needed that,” he whispered.

“Me too,” you breathed.

He squeezed your hand; you squeezed back. Bucky let you lead him back to bed.

He loved you, and you could never know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE:
> 
> Does anyone remember Harry Potter Puppet Pals? Because all I am picturing in my head after writing this chapter is Harry smacking his head against the wall, going "ANGST! ANGST! ANGST!"
> 
> The next chapter I have planned for y'all is gonna be a good one!!
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos; it would mean a lot to me!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote from "Gravity" by Wage War


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: description of a panic attack and past torture

_“_ _**Because I've been** _

_**Trapped in the darkness** _

_**For way too long** _

_**And now it's time for me** _

_**To open my eyes** _

_**I put myself in the trust of the devil's arms** _

_**And now it's time for me** _

_**To enter the light.”** _  
  
  


_~*~*~*~_

**HYDRA Weapons Facility** **Ruins** **. Kreischberg,** **Austria. October 2014.**

The valley was spotted with patches of snow interspersed through the lush green of the forest. The wind carried the promise of more snow to come. Upon seeing the first of the winter snowfall the night before, Bucky decided it was time to finally visit the Ruins of the HYDRA weapons facility. You carefully drove into the forest away from the valley town.

To say that you were anxious was an understatement. You had no idea what would happen once you were there. How would Bucky react? Was he ready? Were you ready? What if things went wrong? Your fingers tapped the steering wheel nervously. You glanced at Bucky, his forefinger and thumb rubbed circles around each other.

You reached out and squeezed his hand, smiling. He squeezed back.

“No need to put on a brave face for me, doll,” Bucky said, eyeing the map.

You sighed, “How much further?” The road grew more narrow the deeper you moved into the forest. Now, it was only one lane and crumbling at the edges. You rounded a corner and were met by a low hanging gate that spanned the width of the road. It had numerous albeit faded warning signs, all in German. “I think I answered my own question,” you said, rolling to a stop.

Bucky looked up and squinted to read the signs. “No Trespassing. Danger: Building Condemned.”

You sighed. “Should we leave the car here or try to go further?”

“Leave it; we can’t risk it getting stuck,” Bucky said, “It’s not that far of a walk from here.”

You nodded, reading your weapons. After what happened in Brooklyn, you weren’t taking any chances. You looked to Bucky who nodded and you turned off the car.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


You and Bucky walked down what was left of the road, side by side, weapons at the ready. After a mile or so the trees began to thin out, slowly, revealing what was left of the factory.

“Dear gods,” you whispered. You hadn’t expected the complex to be as massive and spread out as it was. The SSR files you collected indicated that Johann Schmidt had blown up the factory when he realized they would be overrun. He did not want to risk his plans being discovered. There were some intact portions of the structure, but most were rubble. Grey interspersed with flecks of green. Nature had begun to retake what was hers.

“Never thought I’d be back here again,” Bucky murmured, making his way toward the ruins.

You stood back, letting him move at his own pace, as you had done at the Smithsonian. You watched as he carefully picked his way through the bricks and metal. Something crunched under your foot, a piece of a helmet. You picked it up brushing the dirt off, revealing the sigil of a skull and octopus, the symbol for HYDRA. It was big and bulky; you wondered how anyone was able to see out of it. You dropped it back on the ground in disgust, moving to follow Bucky further into the ruins.

~*~*~*~

  
  


Bucky made his way through the rubble as if on autopilot. Snippets of memories flashed through his mind. The clang of metal. The hiss of the smelters. The crackle of sparks.

He passed by the melted remnants of a metal cage, remembering the smell of death, human waste, blood, and sweat. The fatigue. The harsh swing of a munition canister. The crack made when the canister collided with his side over and over and over. He took deep breaths to calm his nerves, making his way through the debris, towards a section of the building that was still standing.

His heart began to race as he carefully made his way down the hall to the isolation ward. Zola had taken him shortly after his beating. Why he was chosen he would never know. He hoped going back to the start would help him understand. He slowed his pace as he made it to the room at end of the hall.

The gurney he had been strapped to was on its side, it’s foam padding had long since rotted away. Papers, glass, and various medical instruments were strewn all over. Puddles of water pooled on the floor from the leaks in the roof. The machine they used to try to erase his memories stood upright, dominating the center of the room.

Bucky stiffened. His mouth tasted like pennies. His hands were clammy. He remembered. He remembered what they had done to him; what they tried to make him into. His fists clenched. The psychological torture. The pain of needles injecting God knows what into his body. The burn of the unknown substances in his veins. Repeating his name and service number over and over to try to hold onto his identity.

His mind raced with the onslaught of memories and emotions. Anger. Desperation. Fear. Sadness. Hate. His breathing came in short gasps. His chest was tight. He felt he would suffocate. He fell to his knees, screaming. He placed his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. He didn’t register the footsteps behind him.

  
  


~*~*~*~

You heard screams coming from one of the intact buildings. You raced toward them, drawing your gun. “ _Shit. Shit. Shit.”_ You had let Bucky out of your sight for only a moment distracted by a pair of dog tags you found in the dirt.

“Bucky?!” you shouted, the panic evident in your voice, your head whipped around trying to locate the source. The screams echoed off the walls of the intact building towards the back of the facility. “Bucky, where are you?” You quickly made your way down the hall, coming to a stop in front of an open doorway.

You gasped. Bucky was on his knees gripping his head as if he were trying to tear his hair out by the roots. His pained agonized screams rebounded off the walls, each one a knife in your heart. You felt your chest almost cave in on itself at the scene.

You tucked your gun in the waistband of your jeans and ran over to him. Kneeling down, you placed your hands on his shoulders. “Oh, Bucky!” You gently pried his hands from his hair and took them in your own. His forehead shone with sweat. Bucky’s eyes were panicked and unfocused. They darted around as if looking at something that wasn’t there. Wherever he was, it wasn’t with you. He ripped his hands from yours. “Hey, hey, hey,” you placed both of your hands on the side of his face. He struggled in your hold; his hands gripped your upper arms with such force you thought the bones would shatter. You hissed in pain. Still, you kept hold of him, “It’s Y/N; you’re safe.” He began to hyperventilate. You began to panic.

“ _Think, goddamnit, think!”_ You had to find some way to ground him, something to shock his system. Without thinking, without hesitation, you brought your lips down on his, kissing him, desperate to bring him back, to end his pain.

After a moment, you felt him release your arms. His lips moved against your own. You sighed in relief, pulling back. Bucky’s eyes were clearer; his breathing was rapid and ragged. You took his hand and placed over your heart then mirrored the action with your own hand on his chest.

“Breathe with me. Okay? In through the nose…1…2…3…4…Hold it…1…2…3…4…5…6…7…Out through your mouth…1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8.” Bucky took a shaky breath but followed your instructions. You smiled, “You’re safe.”

“Feel my heartbeat. Again, in through the nose, hold it and out ” His breathing grew more steady and even. “Again,” you said, taking a deep breath in; Bucky followed suit. A beat of silence passed. His eyes remained fixed on you as if you were the only person in the world.

“James, I-”

He suddenly pulled you into his lap, your knees on either side of his thighs. You gasped in surprise. Grabbing your face, his lips crashed against yours. Your teeth clashed; his lips fervent. Your eyes fluttered closed. His arms moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you tight to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck. Your noses bumped together. The sounds of soft breaths echoed off the walls. His tongue pushed past your lips, deepening the kiss. They fought for dominance. His hands rubbed up and down your back, ghosting across your ass. You threaded your fingers through his thick hair, arching your body against his own. He sighed into your mouth, then pulled away from you. You frowned slightly from lack of contact, in a daze. He buried his face in your neck, still clutching you tightly to him. Your fingers lingered in his hair as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart thrummed in your chest. You stayed this way for a few more moments, coming to your senses.

Bucky pulled back from your embrace. His eyes met yours, “Well…”

“I panicked,” you said with a soft laugh, looking down, “I didn’t know what else to do,”

“Well, it worked.” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms.

You grimaced as they grazed the tender places where he had grabbed you.

His brow furrowed, “What did I do?”

You shook your head, “No, no, I fell trying to get to you,” you lied. If he knew he had hurt you, he would never forgive himself. You would just need to hide the bruises until they were healed; you were sure they would be in the shape of his hands.

Bucky looked unconvinced.

“It’s nothing, I promise, no tricks.” You smiled. “Are you alright?”

“Most of my memories until this point have been foggy and confusing like there is a sort of film over them. And, there are some that I am not sure if they are even my memories. But the ones I have of this place are crystal clear…”

Bucky looked past you to an overturned gurney. You followed his gaze, finally able to take in the ruins of the laboratory. The atmosphere was close and damp. The smell of mildew hung in the air. It felt as if the shadows had a life of their own. Horrible things had happened in this room.

“I was the only one to survive Zola’s experiments,” he murmured.

“I think that says a lot about you,” you pushed the hair out of his eyes.

The corner of his mouth ticked upward. “Thanks, doll.”

His knees shifted underneath you.

“Oh shit,” your eyes went wide; you had forgotten where you were. You quickly moved off his lap, breaking free of his embrace. “Sorry,” you stammered. You stood up, dusting off your jeans, and straightening your shirt. Your ears burned.

Bucky chuckled, standing up, “S’alright; I have that effect on all the girls.”

You gave a breath of a laugh and smoothed your hair. “The sun will set soon,” you gestured out the door with your thumb. “Are you ready to go?”

Bucky took a deep breath in, looking around one final time, “Yeah, let’s go home.” The phrasing made your heart flutter. You could get used to him saying that. He took your hand and gave it a squeeze. You smiled and squeezed back.

  
  


~*~*~*~

**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. November 2014.**

Large drifts of fresh snow blanketed the mountainside and valley below. Grey clouds rolled over the mountain concealing the summits. Winter had come early. You were grateful for the chalet’s large fireplace and the supply run you had completed the day before. You sipped your tea slowly so as to not burn your tongue.

You sat at the dining room table, a blanket thrown over your lap. You watched your decryption program work; lines of code scrolled quickly across the screen. You put in new search parameters when you found your sister’s name on the Project Insight threat list. After four months, it still hadn’t found any files relating to her in any way.

“ _There are millions of pages that still need decrypting.”_ As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you harbored the hope that your sister was alive out there somewhere. You just needed to find her. You stared out the window at the falling snow, and sighed, twisting her bracelet around your wrist.

An alert tone dinged from your computer. Your head snapped back to the screen, sucking in a breath, expectant. You clicked the alert, holding your breath. It opened the Winter Soldier’s file you had compiled. You sighed in disappointment. “ _B_ _e realistic,_ _Y/N._ _”_

The new file was a video. You raised an eyebrow, reaching for your headphones. Bucky was in another room, but you didn’t want to risk him hearing something that would upset or confuse him.

With the headphones securely around your ears, you clicked open the video. It looked like security camera footage. You observed a vault door and what looked like small lockboxes lining the walls. Agents dressed in tactical gear held their weapons as the ready surrounding a spindly black machine, computer screens, and three people in the middle of the room. Two of them wore white coats. You clicked play.

A shirtless man was seated in front of the machine. A doctor was soldering parts of his metal arm back together. You put your hand over your mouth. “ _Oh my god.”_ It was Bucky. He stared blankly at the wall for a few moments. Then without warning, his body tensed up. He hit the doctor next to him, knocking him out of the chair and sending him skidding across the floor. The agents closed in around him, lining up their shots. Bucky looked frightened and confused. His breathing was heavy for a moment before returning to normal. Involuntarily, your hand moved to the screen as if to touch him, comfort him.

He sat this way for a few moments, his body tense but his eyes unfocused once more. Another figure entered the room, whom you recognized as Alexander Pierce.

> “ _Mission report.”_

Bucky said nothing. He didn’t move.

> “ _Mission report, now!”_

Again, Bucky said nothing. You felt your body tense as Pierce moved in closer, lowering himself to Bucky’s eye level. Bucky continued to look past him. Pierce backhanded him hard across the face; you jumped at the sound. Bucky almost toppled out of the chair from the impact. He looked back to Pierce, dazed.

> “ _ **The man on the bridge?”**_
> 
> “ _ **Who was he?”**_
> 
> “ _You met him earlier this week on another assignment.”_

There was a beat of silence as Bucky tried to process that information.

> “ _ **I knew him.”**_

Your eyes widened; he remembered Steve. You watched as Pierce sat down on a stool in front of him. Bucky slouched in his seat as if he were trying to make himself smaller. He looked down in submission. Your heart ached to see him so defeated, so small.

> _Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time._
> 
> _Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos. Tomorrow morning we're gonna give it a push._
> 
> _But, if you don't do your part, I can't do mine, and HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves._

You seethed at Pierce’s carrot and stick routine. Bucky sighed and made eye contact. With a subtle defiant half-smirk, said:

> “ _ **But, I**_ _ **knew**_ _ **him.”**_

You gave a soft smile, “There you are.” A peek of humanity, a spark still lingered. A beat of silence passed before Pierce stood up from the stool.

> “ _Prep him.”_
> 
> “He’s been out of cryo-freeze too long.”
> 
> “ _Then wipe him and start over.”_

You leaned forward in your seat. You knew Bucky’s memories had been erased, but the reports were vague on the details of how this was completed. You couldn’t ask Bucky, nor would you want to. You didn’t want to put him through the pain of reliving it to explain it to you.

You watched as the two doctors prepped the machine and pushed Bucky back in his seat. One of the doctors offered him a mouthguard. Bucky’s defiant eyes stayed fixed on the wall as he opened his mouth, he put the guard between his teeth. Defiant but compliant.

You jumped at the sound of the metal restraints clamping over each arm and watched as the chair leaned backward. The metal arms of the machine crackled with the electricity that sparked between the plates on the end as they slowly lowered down. You watched in horror as Bucky took a few deep breaths, steeling himself for what was to come. Desperate to remember who Steve was. You felt your eyes burn with unshed tears. You held your breath.

The metal plates molded to his face and crackled to life. Loud, agonized, pain-filled screams rang out as his whole body shook from the electricity. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears escaping as you did so. You brought your knuckle to your mouth to stifle your sobs.

He continued to scream as Pierce walked out of the frame. Your eyes remained fixed on Bucky. Your hand moved toward the screen again, your thumb rubbing across his figure. Your ears filled with his harrowed screams. You checked to see how long the video was.

“ _FIVE HOURS! FIVE FUCKING HOURS!”_

You clicked at random intervals along the progress bar. Each time, your ears were filled with Bucky’s anguished screams. At some points, the doctors would stop, evaluate him, and then put him under once more; as if they were teasing him with these slight reprieves. Finally stopping when Bucky voiced nothing but compliance and his eyes were dead.

Your jaw clenched. Your hands shook. You slammed down the laptop screen and threw off your headphones. You put your head in your hands and sobbed quietly.

The cruelty. The manipulation. The abuse. The torture. Before, you realized, you were not truly able to empathize with his situation. Yes, you had experienced trauma, but not at this magnitude. It was one thing to read about it, but another to actually see it entirely.

And, it made you utterly furious.

Furious at HYDRA, at S.H.E.I.L.D., at Rollins, at Rumlow, at Pierce, at Zola. But most of all, you were furious at whatever higher beings, fates, or laws of the universe allowed someone as kind, loyal, and devoted as James Buchanan Barnes to endure this much pain, this much trauma. “ _Seventy years of it,”_ you thought. All he wanted was to live his life the way he chose and the universe stripped that from him. The thought grieved you.

You swallowed thickly and wiped your tears. You sat back in your chair and crossed your arms. You looked up to the ceiling with a sigh.

You would burn anything and anyone down to save that man.

The man you loved.

You stiffened at the realization. Was this love? You didn’t know. Sure you had ex-boyfriends, but you never told any of them you loved them. What did it feel like to be "in love" with someone?

Bucky made you feel safe and secure. He was intelligent. He was kind and thoughtful. He was always worried about others and often took care of their needs before his own. His sense of humor matched yours. You couldn’t deny the physical attraction, the kiss at the HYDRA facility confirmed that.

You trusted him with your life.

You could trust him with your heart.

New tears streaked down your face. For the time being, you would need to bury those feelings and not burden him with them. “Love is wanting the best for someone, whether it includes you or not,” as Hunter would say. You had made a promise to help him reclaim his identity and his memories. He didn’t need a distraction.

And you never broke a promise.

You could only hope that vengeance would be served somewhere along the way.

You heard the bedroom door open and Bucky padding down the hallway. You quickly sat up, opening your computer. You exited out of the video; this was something he didn’t need to see. You wiped your nose and face on the blanket as Bucky entered the main room. He headed toward the kitchen.

You watched him as he dug in the refrigerator for a plum, checking each one to see if it was ripe enough to eat. He looked so different now, compared to the man in the footage you just watched. He stood tall. He looked healthy. He walked with a little more confidence. He looked more sure of himself, almost content. He smiled more, laughed often.

He turned to face you, you quickly looked back to the computer screen. Heat rising to your cheeks.

“See somethin' you like, doll?” He teased, taking a bite out of the plum.

“Nah, Sarge, just wondering if you were gonna save any plums for me.” You picked up your tea and took a sip. It had gone cold. You grimaced.

“Only if you save some cookies for me,” he retorted. He pointed to the kettle and then to your tea.

You nodded, handing him your cup, “Deal. And thank you.”

Bucky flashed one of his signature smirks. “Hakuna Matata.”

You chuckled; Bucky’s newest pop-culture assignment was to watch all the animated Disney movies you had access to. “I don’t think that saying works in this particular context, but I’ll let it slide this time. You’re getting better with your reference game. I’m impressed.”

“Well, I learn from the best,” he said, placing the mug and honey in front of you. He sat next to you facing the window.

“That is true.”

“It’s really coming down isn’t it?”

You sipped your tea, following his gaze to the valley below. “At this rate, we will be snowed in for days.”

“Eh, being stuck with you isn’t so bad.”

“Ditto; plus I need you as my personal space heater.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and looked back out the window, finishing his plum. You observed his features. The circles under his eyes were gone. His eyes were bright. His mouth resting in a small smile instead of a grimace. He looked content and relaxed.

And you would try your damnedest to keep it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: 
> 
> I told you the first kiss would be worth it. :D
> 
> Also yay you discovered your feelings for Bucky! 
> 
> Please comment or give kudos if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote: "Brought to Light" - Gemini Syndrome


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: mention of suicide/suicide warning signs; grief; overwhelming emotions.

“ _ **It's so loud inside my head**_

_**With words that I** _

_**Should have said** _

_**And as I drown in my regrets** _

_**I can't take back** _

_**The words I never said.”** _

  
  


_~*~*~*~_

  
  


**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. December 24, 2014.**

The winter sky was clear of cloud cover and the moon was only a sliver, allowing the stars to shine to their full glory. You had always been enchanted by the stars. They looked peaceful and infinite, reminding you just how small of a planet Earth actually was. It was a humbling thought.

You sat on the terrace of the chalet in front of the crackling fire-pit with a blanket wrapped around you. The cold night air carried the peals of church bells up the mountain, announcing the start of midnight mass.

You heard the backdoor open and the sound of footsteps approach. Bucky appeared in your peripheral; you smiled, turning towards him. He handed you a steaming mug of cocoa. You took it gratefully, letting the mug warm your hands. You felt the small patio couch dip as he sat next to you. You leaned into him and sighed in contentment.

“I’ve never seen so many stars out at once,” Bucky said, his eyes gazing up at the sky in wonder.

You hummed, sipping your cocoa. “Perks of living out in the middle of nowhere. Where else are you gonna get a view like this? Certainly not the city.”

“Makes you feel kinda small doesn’t it?”

You thought a moment, “Hmmm, I don’t think so. ‘We are made of starstuff.’ The same elemental things that make up the stars make up us. If anything, it makes me feel infinite and empowered.”

“Gettin’ all deep on me there, Sagan.” He flashed his signature smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m feeling introspective; it’s Christmas after all.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up with a boyish giddiness at the mention of the holiday. He stood up and offered you his hand. “Speaking of, come inside, I have something I want to show you.” You raised an eyebrow but allowed him to pull you inside.

He sat you on the couch in front of the fireplace. “So, uh, stay here and close your eyes.”

You cocked your head to the side. “What are you up to, Sarge?”

“No tricks,” he said, putting his palms up to his chest.

You eyed him skeptically for a moment longer before slowly closing your eyes. You heard him move away and out of the room. You opened one of your eyes and peered down the hallway.

“No peeking!”

“I was not!”

“Uh-huh, super soldier senses remember? Put your hands over your eyes.”

You sighed loudly and covered your eyes with your hands. You heard him come back into the living area and set something large down on the coffee table.

“Okay, you can open them now,” Bucky said, the excitement evident in his voice.

You uncovered your eyes. A portable Yamaha keyboard sat on the table in front of you. Your eyes widened; you covered your mouths with your hands. Until this moment, you hadn’t realized how much you had missed being able to play the piano. Playing had been a way for you to decompress after a long workday or when you were feeling overwhelmed. Your fingers ghosted across the keys.

“Bucky...How...How did you get this?”

“I bought it during one of my solo supply trips. I snuck it in when you were in the shower. I’ve been hiding it in one of the other bedrooms. It’s used, but it works fine. I made sure.” He smiled, biting his lip nervously.

You were speechless. You looked back at the keyboard. You realized you wouldn’t be able to take something like this with you if you had to leave the chalet. Having something like this established a sense of permanence and normalcy in your and Bucky’s chosen residence. It reminded you that while you and Bucky needed to survive, you also needed to live. Tears pricked your eyes.

“Do you like it?” Bucky rubbed the back of his neck.

You were up on your feet with your arms wrapped around his neck in and second, squeezing him tightly. He gasped in surprise but returned your embrace. His arms wrapped around your waist, he buried his face in your neck.

“I take that as a yes?” he asked, his voice was muffled.

“I love it.” You felt him smile. You kissed his cheek gently. “Thank you.” You moved to sit in front of the keyboard. “Well, now I feel bad. I didn’t think we were doing presents.”

“Well, I had an idea for that.” He moved to sit next to you. “Back at Clint’s you said I would hear you play and sing someday, so...” he gestured to the piano.

You chuckled and nodded, “You got it, Sarge.” You turned on the keyboard and played some scales, acquainting your fingers with the keys. You adjusted the volume, the treble, and bass to your liking. “You have any requests?”

“You pick?”

You smiled and began to play the opening notes to “Merry Christmas, Darling” by The Carpenters. “You won’t know this one, but it’s one of the best Christmas songs, in my opinion.” Muscle memory kicked in; you had played this song so many times before. Your fingers flew across the keys as you sang, hoping to do Karen Carpenter justice. Halfway through the song, you looked over to Bucky; he watched you intently as if to memorize this moment forever. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks and smiled shyly. You had played in front of plenty of people before, but there was something intimate about playing for just one person. Especially, a person you happened to have feelings for.

“ _ **I wish I were with you.”**_

“ _ **Merry Christmas – darling”**_

You looked at Bucky through your lashes, as you played the final notes of the song. He smiled, the warmth and adoration behind his eyes evident.

“Merry Christmas, doll.”

“Merry Christmas, Sarge.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. New Years’ Eve 2014.**

Piano music filled the chalet as the fire crackled in the fireplace. Bucky poured you both large glasses of whiskey while you sat at the keyboard, playing old jazz standards and some of your original compositions. It seemed a fitting way to celebrate the New Year.

As you played, you reflected on the past year. This time last year, you were in Georgetown with Rey and her fiancé, Ben, at St. Elmo’s bar, dancing the night away and shooting tequila. Now, you were hiding out in a defunct S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouse in the Austrian Alps playing the piano for The Winter Soldier.

So much had happened. So much had changed. It was bittersweet. Your losses had been great but so were the gains. The path your life had taken was uncertain and not the safest, but you had found a new sense of purpose. A life running and hiding was draining, but having someone with which to share the burden made it easier to bear. Despite all that happened, you were grateful to have found Bucky that night in April.

The couch shifted slightly as Bucky sat down next to you. He placed a glass of whiskey next to the keyboard and laid his arm across the back of the couch.

“It’s almost midnight,” he said, sipping his whiskey.

You nodded, finishing the song before picking up your whiskey. “What did you use to do for New Years in the 30s and 40s?” you said turning to face him, tucking your legs underneath you. Your knees touched his thigh. You swirled the whiskey in your glass.

“Uhm, I don’t think we did anything different than what you all do now. It was an excuse to get together, dress up, drink, and have a party. The dance halls were always popular. People still gathered in Times Square for the countdown.”

“Hmmm, that sounds about the same, but we don’t dress up really anymore. At least I don’t. I cannot stand to wear heels all night.”

“You were wearing heels when I met you.”

“Well, that was for work and when I had breaks I would take them off,” you dismissed. “The dance halls sound fun though.”

Bucky chuckled, “They were.”

“I bet you were a hit with all the girls in the dance hall.”

Bucky looked down with a smile, “Eh maybe.”

“You forget I danced with you for hours at the Whip and Fiddle. I can just see the girls clamoring for a dance with you after witnessing your skills. ‘Oh Sergeant Barnes! Please save me a dance! Let me pencil you in on my dance card!’” You brought the back of your hand to forehead, pretending to swoon.

“You’re still the best dance partner I’ve ever had.” He looked up at you through his long lashes.

You looked down into your whiskey, heat rising to your cheeks, “Ditto. I mean not that I have been to many dance halls, but I have been to my fair share of school dances. However, the type of dancing that happens at those isn’t exactly dancing.” You used air quotes to emphasize the word dancing. “It’s more like dry humping.” Bucky choked on his whiskey. You laughed.

Bucky coughed. “Well, I’m glad I could show you the ways of proper dancing. What did you do for New Years?”

“For the past few years, I just went to a local dive bar with friends and drank. Not near as glamorous as a 1940s dance hall.We shot cheap tequila and not this fine libation.” You gestured to whiskey in your glass. “Worst hangovers ever but some fun times.”

Bucky glanced at your laptop; you had it open to display Austria’s New Year countdown. One minute remained. “It’s been a helluva year.”

You nodded, “Yeah, yeah it has.” You glanced back at Bucky, “but I wouldn’t change any of it.”

He returned your gaze; his eyes filled with sincerity, “I wouldn’t either.”

Cheers of “Ein Frohes Neues Jahr!” _(“Happy New Year!”)_ emanated from your laptop’s speakers drowning out “Auld Lang Syne”. You raised your glass to Bucky’s and he brought his to yours with a soft clink.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


You and Bucky decided to record a video message for The Bartons as a way to check-in. It had been a while since you last reached out to them. With Hunter and Rey gone, your chosen family was all you had left.

You choose to sit against one wall that was neutral in color. You were pretty sure Clint would know where you were, but you didn’t want to take the chance. The less he knew the better.

“I hope you have been keeping up with your coding, Cooper,” you said. “Maybe you will have a few things to teach me when I see you next.”

“I still have your hair-ties, Lila,” Bucky singsonged, holding his wrist up to the camera as proof, “Also you’re still my best girl.” He smiled.

“Don’t worry, Dad. We are laying low and we have made some headway.” You looked to Bucky who nodded. “Try not to hurt yourself. You’re getting up there in years, and I’d hate to see you break a hip.”

Bucky chuckled, “Laura, I miss your cooking. Y/N is alright in the kitchen, but you are the best.”

Your jaw dropped in mock surprise, you placed a hand on your chest dramatically, “Oh that’s how it is?”

“That’s how it is.”

“Just for that, I’m going to eat all your plums.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head.

“Anyways, we miss you,” you said.

“We’ll be back as soon as we can,” Bucky added.

You both waved to the camera, “Happy New Year! Bye!”

You stopped the recording and moved to the dining table, while Bucky went to shower. You erased the metadata on the video before opening your encrypted email. You noticed a new message from Alias Investigations. You quickly sent the video to Clint before opening the email.

“ _Maybe Jess finally has a new lead.”_

The email read:

> _Dear Y/N,_
> 
> _I’m sorry it has taken me so long to get back with you about your sister’s case; I wanted to make sure I exhausted any and all possible leads. There is really no easy way for me to say this, so I’ll just get right to it. Hunter wasn’t murdered. Yes, she was involved with some shady hackers, but all their stories, records, and alibis are solid. Her name only appeared on Project Insight’s algorithm due to a clerical error that had her listed as a missing person instead of deceased. I was also able to get her computer sent to me; don’t ask how. I didn’t find anything on it to indicate someone had messed with it in any way. However, I did find information she had collected on a ghost drive regarding lethal doses of various medications. The investigation reports and autopsy report indicated signs of an opioid overdose. I have attached all of my files to this email, because I know you will want to look over them yourself. I wish I had better news for you. I know this isn’t the answer you wanted, and I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you. I hope this info helps you in some way. If you have any questions, let me know. I am here if you need me._
> 
> _Jess_

You read the email over and over again willing it to change or to reveal something else. Tears rolled silently down your face.

It wasn’t true.

It couldn’t be true.

Jessica had to be wrong.

You opened all the files she had attached to the email and began to read. You didn’t hear Bucky come back into the room.

“It’s late, doll,” he said when he noticed you scanning through the various files. You didn’t respond. “Doll?” He walked over to the table. “What’s wrong? What happened?” You felt him kneel down next to your chair. You didn’t take your eyes off the computer.

“Jessica sent me an email about my sister’s case I asked her to work on while I was gone,” your voice brittle. You scrolled through the files. “She said Hunter’s death was truly a…” you swallowed thickly.

Bucky placed a hand on your knee. You finally looked at him; his eyes were soft. “I have to go through these files; she must have missed something."

He nodded, “Okay.” He made no move to get up.

“I’m not tired. You don’t have to wait up for me.” You turned your attention back to the laptop and Jessica’s case notes.

“Don’t you think you should get some rest first? You don’t want to miss anything important.”

You shook your head. “No, no, I’m fine.”

“Doll…”

“I said I’m fine, Bucky,” you snapped. “I have to do this; I have to do this right now.”

Bucky cleared his throat and stood up, “Then I’ll stay up with you.” He moved to sit in the chair next to you.

You nodded once and turned your full attention back to the laptop. Jessica had missed something; you just had to find what.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. January 2015.**

Two weeks had passed since you received Jessica’s email; you had barely left the dining room table, most of the time not willingly. You had only showered a few times when Bucky managed to convince you to. Multiple times Bucky carried you to bed when you fell asleep at your computer. You never slept for long, usually only a few hours, before the nightmares woke you and you returned to the table to search through Jessica’s files once more. Reading every one over and over until the lines blurred together.

You knew Bucky was distressed by the way he looked at you when he offered you food, tea, or coffee which you would decline the majority of the time. He always made sure to be nearby, but he never hovered. You had caught him staring at you on a few occasions. His brow furrowed. His eyes were tired. He looked lost, uncertain of what to do.

The guilt ate you alive. Bucky didn’t deserve this. You brutally chastised yourself every day for your weakness, your obsession, the burden you placed on him. You willed yourself to snap out of it.

But, you had to know for sure.

You read the files a hundred times over. You explored every possibility, did even more research. Each time, you came to the same conclusion; Jessica was right. But still, you kept cycling through the documents waiting for something to reveal itself to you. Something that proved you right and Jessica wrong.

Because the truth was unfathomable.

For the fifth time that day, you finished reading through all the documents. The sun had set hours ago. The wind picked up; it whistled by the windows. You absentmindedly turned the bracelet on your wrist.

Looking down at it, you remembered one of the warnings signs of suicide. Hurriedly, you pulled up the list Jessica had included with her files and scanned the document. People often withdrew into themselves. They became emotionally distant. They acted outside of their normal behavior. They often gave away prized possessions as a way to say goodbye.

You trembled, remembering those last few weeks. Hunter had become sporadic in her responses to your texts and phone calls. When she did talk to you she seemed sad and resigned. You learned later she had quit her job two weeks prior and hadn’t come down from the cabin since. She had deep cleaned the whole house, even her room, despite always telling you she liked the mess. She had given you her favorite bracelet as a Christmas present, leaving it wrapped underneath the tree.

It couldn’t be true.

Yet, here was the proof, staring you in the face. A truth you had been denying the whole time.

Your lower lip quivered as you wrapped your arms around yourself. A lump formed in your throat. Your eyes burned. The realization began to sink in, and it was overwhelming, unbearable.

You stood up swiftly from the table; the chair squeaked across the wooden floor. You made your way toward the backdoor and flung it open. Bucky called your name, but it didn’t register. You ignored the biting wind and the fact you weren’t wearing shoes or a coat. You were numb everywhere. You ran through the snow to the overlook at the cliff’s edge. The view of the mountain town’s lights blurred with your tears.

You fell to your knees with a strangled mournful cry before collapsing into sobs. Your entire body shook. Your chest tightened like it would cave in at any moment as your heart shattered as it did on that night five years ago. You felt Bucky kneel down behind you. His chest pressed against your back as he wrapped his arms around you. He held you as you wept.

“Oh my God, Why?! What did I do?”

“Why would she leave me like that?!”

“Did she honestly think she was a burden? That I was better off without her? If anyone was the burden, it was me. I’m the one who left her alone to care for our grandfather. I just had to go off and ‘live my dream’.” Your voice cracked.

Bucky moved in front of you, pulling you to his chest. You took several shuddering breaths, your hands clutching at his sweater.

“Oh my God! The loneliness…the helplessness…the sadness she must have felt!” you hiccuped.

You sat back suddenly, eyes wide.

“I did this, it’s my fault…I never…never should have left her,” you whispered.

“I loved her more than anything else in this world, and she is dead because of me.”

“Why…”

“Why does everyone who has ever loved me leave me?” you whispered. A new round of sobs wracked your body.

Bucky lifted your chin with his metal knuckle. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said gently. He pushed your hair back. “Look at me.” You met his eyes. He cupped your face in his hands. “I’m not going anywhere, doll.”

You searched his face. The steel-blue eyes you trusted bore into yours, urging you to believe him. His thumbs stroked your cheeks, wiping away your tears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he affirmed.

You took a shuddering breath in.

“No tricks?” you asked softly.

“No tricks.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded. New tears spilled onto your cheeks.

You believed him.

He kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment before pulling you to him once more. You wrapped your arms around his neck, embracing him tightly. His arms encircled your waist. You took several deep breaths, melting into the warmth of his body.

You shivered, becoming aware of the wind and the snow.

“Let’s get you inside,” Bucky whispered in your ear. You nodded. He lifted you, placing one arm under your knees and one around your back, and carried you back to the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> If you or anyone you know are having thoughts of suicide, please don't hesitate to call the suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255. You are worth it and not a burden to anyone. 
> 
> I figured I would give you some fluffiest of fluff before dropping that bomb on you. On a lighter note, we have Bucky's love declaration. Wheeee! 
> 
> If you are enjoying the story, please don't hesitate to comment or leave kudos!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote: "Words" by Skylar Grey


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Smut (finally lol) and whump.

“ **_Love doesn’t discriminate_ **

**_Between the sinners_ **

**_And the saints_ **

**_It takes and it takes and it takes_ **

**_And we keep loving anyway”_ **

~*~*~*~

  
  


**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. January 2015.**

Bucky sat you down on a stool in the bathroom you shared. He turned the water on in the tub, running a bath. Steam rose off the water, curling in soft tendrils. You allowed your gaze to become unfocused as you stared at the steam; you felt drained. Your clothes were soaked with snow. They clung to your body. You shivered violently, teeth chattering.

Kneeling down next to the stool, Bucky looked to you for confirmation, which you gave, before helping you remove your socks, then your henley, and finally your leggings. Still in your black bralette and underwear, he picked you up and placed you in the water.

The hot water stung your cold skin; you winced slightly, adjusting to the temperature. You sat in the tub, resting your chin on your knees. You let the water drive the chill from your bones. The tension in your body melted away slowly. Bucky remained by your side; every so often he poured the warm water over your exposed skin.

“I’m sorry, James,” you whispered after a while.

“What for, doll?” he asked.

“For these past two weeks. For making you worry. For shutting you out.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“You didn’t deserve that. I told you I would help you and I’ve been selfish.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re grieving. People grieve in different ways.”

You nodded solemnly; you knew you weren’t going to win this fight.

When the color returned to your skin and the water had begun to cool, Bucky helped you out of the tub. He wrapped you in a towel, “Dry off; I’ll bring you some new clothes.”

You discarded your wet undergarments when he closed the bathroom door. Sitting on the stool, you began to pat yourself dry. You heard a soft knock at the door. Wrapping the towel tightly around you, you opened it. Bucky handed you a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and some underwear. His fingers grazed yours. The familiar buzz his touch gave you was comforting.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” he said.

You nodded.

He gave you a small smile as you shut the door.

You dressed carefully, noting the sweatshirt to be one of his. It smelled like him. You brought it to your nose, inhaling deeply, allowing his scent to relax you. You ran a brush through your hair and then brushed your teeth. Slowly but surely, feeling like a human again.

You padded into the kitchen, where Bucky leaned against the counter, swirling some whiskey in a glass before taking a sip. You walked over and took his hand squeezing it once. He smiled and squeezed back. He offered you the glass; you took a sip then handed it back to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, placing your head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady, calming. He sat the glass down on the counter and returned your embrace, placing his temple on the crown of your head. He rubbed your back.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He lifted your chin to look at him. “I’m always here, doll.” His right hand rested on the side of your neck, his thumb gingerly stroked your jawline. “I’ll always be here.” Your heart rate jumped. Your gaze dropped to his lips then back up to his eyes; you leaned in slightly. He pulled you to him; his lips parted slightly. Your eyes fluttered closed. His lips gently met yours. They were soft. He tasted like whiskey. Unlike the last time, this kiss was slow, tender, and deliberate.

Your hands moved from behind his back and slid up his chest, wrapping around his neck. You longed for his touch, craved it. You pressed your body into his. He wrapped his metal arm around your waist, pulling you in closer. Your body hummed in his embrace; a warmth spread through you. You stood on your toes to reach him, never breaking the kiss. His tongue slowly dragged along your bottom lip, your lips parted allowing him access. He explored your mouth. Your kisses became more fervent.

His hands moved down the sides of your torso to your hips, where his thumbs drew circles for a moment. You softly moaned into his mouth. He bent down, grazing his hands down your ass to your thighs and pulled you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he lifted you. Your hands snaked through his hair, a moan rumbled deep in his chest. He broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against your own, taking a breath.

Your eyes met; his pupils were dilated. You smiled softly, which he returned. His lips captured yours once more before working their way down your jaw and to your neck. Your lips parted in a small sigh as he sucked slightly on a pulse point.

“Bedroom?” he asked huskily between his kisses.

“Yes,” you breathed.

Bucky moved off the kitchen counter and made his way down the hall your legs still wrapped around his waist. He nudged the door shut with his foot before making his way onto the bed. He laid you down, positioning himself between your legs. He propped himself up on his elbows, careful to keep most of his weight off of you.

You brushed his hair out of his face and pulled him in for another kiss, breathing in sharply through your nose. You wanted this closeness. You needed it. You needed to feel something else other than this pain and this numbness that threatened to overtake you. But did he want this? He wasn’t telling you to stop, and he had initiated the kissing. Still, you wanted to be certain.

You broke the kiss and caressed his Cupid’s bow with your thumb. “Are you alright with this?” You searched his face.

“I am,” he said, his fingers playing lazily with your hair. “Are you?” He met your eyes; his gaze was soft but filled with desire.

Your breath hitched; you nodded. “Yes.”

Bucky smiled, his nose gently trailing along your jawline and down your neck. His breath slightly moved the hair behind your ears. Goosebumps prickled your skin; a warmth pooled in your belly.

You allowed your hands to explore his torso. His sweater concealed his toned chest and back. Your hands drifted under the sweater, relishing the feeling of his warm skin against your palms. You hiked his sweater up higher for better access. Taking the hint Bucky sat back on his knees and removed his sweater, tossing it aside.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you drank in his form. His broad chest and shoulders toned from years of training. He had acquired some chest hair and a happy trail since leaving Clint’s homestead. The scars surrounding his metal arm were pink and slightly puckered. You sat up slowly, running your hand along his metal prosthesis, feeling the bumps of the cool metal plates beneath your fingers. Bucky’s eyes closed and he grimaced slightly. As your hand came to the top of his shoulder, you leaned forward and brushed feather-light kisses on his scars. You picked up his metal hand and kissed his palm before placing it on your hip. He breathed a sigh as your hands explored his chest and abs while your mouth found his neck.

He ran his hands under your sweatshirt slowly moving upward. You shivered at the temperature difference between them; relishing in the dueling sensations of warm and cool. They came to a sudden stop as they reached the bottom curve of your breasts when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra. He raised an eyebrow and smirked.

You laughed softly, your fingers curling into his hair. “To be fair, when you handed me a change of clothes you didn’t give me a bra. Perks of living in the 21st century though, you don’t have to deal with those pesky cumbersome 1940s girdles anymore.”

He gave you a wolfish grin before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss once more, inching the sweatshirt up your body. You held up your arms as he tugged it over your head, leaving you bare-chested. Now, it was his turn to drink you in. Bucky eyed you hungrily.

“Frumoasa,” he whispered, lowly. _(Beautiful.)_

Heat blossomed from your cheeks down your neck. His right hand trailed up from your hips to the side of your breast as he slowly pushed you back down onto the pillows. He smiled as your bare chest came into contact with his. Your breathing hitched as your pert nubs brushed his skin, setting your entire body aflame. Your hands threaded in his hair, tugging him to you for another kiss. His mouth traveled from your lips down your neck once more, teeth slightly grazing your collarbone. He continued to leave open-mouthed kisses all the way down to your chest. You hummed at his touch, running your nails lightly along his scalp. His lips closed around one nipple and sucked slightly. Your body arched upward with a low moan. He chuckled lowly, looking up at you watching your reactions. His metal hand palmed the other breast; his thumb flicked over the nipple, making you shudder. He then switched sides. The chill tempered by his warm mouth. He kissed his way back up to your neck.

Your hands roamed up and down his back, leaving light scratches as he marked your neck and collarbone. Your small sighs urging him on. You felt his bulge rest against your thigh. Your hips involuntarily bucked upward into his.

You felt his chest rumble with a low chuckle, “Cineva este dornic.” _(Someone is eager.)_

“Poți să mă învinovățești?” _(Can you blame me?)_ You rubbed your thigh across his bulge in his jeans, mischievously. With a slight hiss, he sat up dragging one of his fingers down your sternum to your hips. The desire built between your thighs.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your sweats. He looked to you once more for confirmation. You nodded your head voraciously. Slowly, inch by inch he pulled your sweats down and off your legs. The building tension was deliciously maddening. You bit your lip as he ran his hand up your thigh, before ghosting across your sex. You squirmed with desire. Bucky’s knee wedged between your thighs giving him better access. The rough fabric of his jeans grazed your skin exquisitely. You gasped as his fingers began to massage your nub through your underwear, sending a scorching heat straight to your core. Bucky smiled against your neck, murmuring Romanian praises.

Your hand traveled down and palmed his bulge through his jeans as he continued his ministrations. He groaned in your ear as you stroked him; the sound sending a thrill through you. His touches became more fervent and your arousal was evident by the dampness of your underwear.

You sat up slightly and tugged on the buttons of his jeans, eager for more of those vulnerable sounds. He lifted his hips to help you remove his pants. The head of his cock peeked out from the waistband of his boxer briefs. You slowly traced the outline of it, he involuntarily bucked his hips against your palm. You gave him a sly smile, “Acum cine este dornic?” _(Now who is eager?)_

You slipped his underwear from his hips, freeing his erection. Your hand wrapped around it and pumped it a few times. He gave a low growl and claimed your mouth with his in a fiery kiss. Your tongues battled for dominance as you sank back against the pillows. His hands made quick work of removing your panties, revealing your heady sex.

You spread your legs as Bucky positioned himself at your entrance. His forehead rested against yours as he slowly entered you. A gasp of pleasure erupted unbidden from your lips as you adjusted to the size of him. You lifted one leg around his waist allowing him better access as he began to pump into you at a slow delicious pace.

Your hands twined in his hair again, tugging slightly. His low moans sent lances of pleasure to your core. His thrusts quickened aș he effortlessly slid in and out of your heat. Your walls fluttered around him as you writhed beneath him. Your toes curled at the sensations. Your temples prickled with sweat. Bucky’s hand traveled to your swollen bundle of nerves and slowly circled it. You gave a low cry as the pleasure bloomed and coiled in your body. He kissed you feverishly, swallowing your cries. You wrapped your other leg around his waist allowing him to delve deeper. His cock stroked the sensitive spot inside you dreamily.

“James,” you whimpered aș your walls clenched around him. The coil within your belly snapped as you drifted aimlessly on the waves of intense pleasure. Your climax propelled his own release. Your body shuddered when he moaned your name as he came. His languid thrusts coming to a stop as you both rode out your high.

He slowly pulled out and lowered himself down, his head resting on your shoulder. His breath was simultaneously hot and cool against your chest. He traced circles up and down your side for a moment. Your fingers curled in his hair as you caught your breath; you kissed his forehead. He propped himself up on his elbow with a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. You loved that smile.

His thumb traced the outline of your lips before giving you a chaste kiss. “Vin imediat.” _(I’ll be right back.)_ He made his way from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. You pushed your hair out of your eyes and exhaled contentedly, basking in the post-orgasm glow. Bucky returned with a damp washcloth and wiped you down. You smiled at the gesture.

Discarding the cloth, Bucky went in search of new pairs of underwear for the both of you as you turned down the bed. He tossed you a pair of panties that you slid on before settling down beneath the sheets.

It was late and the events of the day were catching up to you. Bucky crawled in next to you, wrapping his metal arm around your waist pulling your back against his chest. Its coolness soothing your heated skin. You placed your hand over his metal one intertwining your fingers with his as your eyes fluttered closed. As sleep pulled you under, you felt Bucky’s lips against the shell of your ear and thought you heard him whisper, “Te iubesc.” _(“I love you.”)_

  
  


~*~*~*~

You watched the sun rise over the mountains in the east. The rays of light dancing off the snow like diamonds. Wisps of steam rose from the cup of coffee in your hands. You had awoken early cuddled into Bucky’s side, both of you clad in only underwear.

You carefully extricated yourself from Bucky’s side. Tiptoeing to the bathroom, you used the facilities. As you washed your hands, you caught sight of several hickeys spattered over your neck, shoulders, and decolletage in the mirror. You ran your fingers along the bruises with a slight smile, remembering the last night’s events. Then you remembered why last night’s events occurred. Your smile faltered. You quickly gathered your hair in a bun before grabbing your clothes for the day, leaving Bucky alone, snoring softly.

You sat at the dining room table, replaying last night in your mind’s eye. You didn’t regret what had happened. Maybe why it happened. You wanted to feel something else other than your grief. But you couldn’t deny that your feelings for Bucky had also played a part. Feelings you weren’t ready to disclose because you still didn’t fully understand them. You were worried that Bucky might regret it all together. But then, you could have sworn he told you that he loved you last night as you fell asleep. You sipped your coffee with a sigh. An awkward and somewhat difficult conversation needed to be had and you were dreading it. You knew no matter what your relationship with Bucky would be different from now on.

You heard the bedroom door click open. Bucky was awake. He trudged into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. At least, he had gotten dressed; he wore sweatpants and a black t-shirt. His metal arm shone in the early morning light. He caught sight of you and smiled.

“Mornin’, doll.”

You felt some of your anxiety melt away at his reaction to your presence. “Good morning, Sarge. Coffee’s fresh; just finished brewing.”

He nodded and went through the motions of making his coffee. You turned your attention back to the view outside the picture window, watching the sun chase away the shadows. Bucky appeared beside you. You turned towards him. His right hand cupped your face, his calloused thumb caressed your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered closed at his touch. You brought your hand up to his and kissed his palm. “We need to talk about last night,” you said, meeting his eyes.

He nodded and sat down next to you. “Yeah, we definitely should.”

You took a deep breath, “First of all, I need you to know I have an IUD, a contraceptive implant; so there is literally no chance of me getting pregnant.”

Bucky nodded, “That’s good to know.”

“Second of all, I don’t regret anything that happened last night. The timing could have been better,” you laughed, “But, I’m not sorry for anything that happened.”

Bucky nodded; his face was unreadable. Then he reached for your hand, squeezed it, and smiled. “I’m glad you don’t regret it because I don’t either. I thought maybe you might have when I woke up and you were gone.”

You let out the breath you had been holding. You squeezed his hand back, “Sorry about that, I just needed to process a few things.”

“That’s understandable.”

You lapsed into a comfortable silence, both sipping your coffees and watching the sun come up.

“So,” a smile crept across your face, “I have to know. How was your first time since the 40s?”

Bucky waggled his eyebrows, “It’s nice to know I still got it after 70 years.”

You chuckled into your coffee, “Yeah, yeah you do.”

~*~*~*~

**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. February 2015.**

Since that night in January, you and Bucky had become more free in expressing your physical affection for one another. Kissing occurred daily. Bucky often laid his head in your lap while you watched movies and let you run your fingers through his thick hair. Both of you would fall asleep in each other’s arms instead of trying to stay on your designated side of the bed. You held hands while making supply runs. Bucky would often come up behind you while you were in the kitchen and wrap his arms around your waist, kissing your neck and shoulders. Sometimes he would let his hands wander as he did so; when that happened, you would eventually wind up back in the bedroom. The physical aspect of your relationship came easy; it was natural.

Despite this development, you hadn’t exactly discussed your feelings. The term “friends with benefits” would often spring into your head when you thought about it. But it seemed more than that. There was an emotional connection to be sure, but you hadn’t discussed it. You tried not to let it bother you too much. You both had other things to worry about.

You sat at the dining room table in front of your laptop, calibrating your taser disks to make sure they were in working order. Your program had just finished decrypting several large video files. The file names were all in Russian. You checked the metadata on one file noting it was from 1991.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Bucky asked, calibrating the nanomask.

“I want to, but I wasn’t expecting the program to have finished with these files this quickly.” You gestured to the computer, moving from your seat to stand beside him. “I need to run them through my analysis programs and that will take some time.”

Bucky nodded, shutting the nanomask case. “Sure thing, doll.”

“Be careful, Sarge.”

He smiled, “Always am.” He caught your lips in a swift kiss, “I’ll be back soon.”

You nodded, moving back to the table with a small smile “Don’t forget my cookies,” you called after him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he called back as he made his way out the door.

~*~*~*~

Once again, Bucky’s agonized screams spilled from your laptop’s speakers. The recently decrypted files were video logs of some of Bucky’s missions as the Winter Soldier. HYDRA would wake him from cryo-freeze and then immediately place him in, what Bucky had informed you was called, the Memory Suppression Machine. They would then say a series of random words once the wipe was complete; you assumed it was some form of conditioning, not unlike Pavlov’s dog.

You had been listening to the videos with your headphones, but after the seventh one, you couldn’t take his screams in your ear anymore. You made some tea to calm yourself down.

> **_Желание_ ** _. (Longing.)_
> 
> **_Ржавый._ ** _(Rusted.)_
> 
> **_Семнадцать._ ** _(Seventeen.)_
> 
> **_Рассвет._ ** _(Daybreak.)_
> 
> **_Печь._ ** _(Furnace.)_
> 
> **_Девять._ ** _(Nine.)_
> 
> **_Добросердечный._ ** _(Benign.)_
> 
> **_Возвращение на родину._ ** _(Homecoming.)_
> 
> **_Один._ ** _(One.)_
> 
> **_Товарный вагон._ ** _(Freight Car.)_

Tea in hand, you moved back to the table and watched as Bucky listened to his mission briefing. You heard the whir of machinery behind you. You spun around at the noise and assumed a defensive position. Bucky stood in the doorway. You sighed in relief.

“Jesus! Sarge, you scared the shit outta me.” You put down your cup. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

You paused the video. Bucky didn’t move. His eyes trained on your movements in a thousand-mile stare, like you were being hunted. A chill went down your spine.

“Sarge?”

You moved toward him cautiously. He didn’t respond.

“Bucky?”

Your heart pounded; everything in your body was telling you to run. But you kept moving toward him.

“Jam-?”

Within a matter of seconds, Bucky crossed the remaining distance between you. His metal hand gripped your throat tightly, cutting off your airway. You put your hands around his wrist, tucking your chin into his hand to release the pressure on your throat. He forced you back into the table, knocking your tea onto the floor. The cup shattered. Spots darted across your vision. You locked eyes with Bucky. They were cold, emotionless. It terrified you.

You caught yourself, throwing your hands out behind you in order to stay upright. Your fingers grazed a taser disk. Grabbing it, you pushed his arm off your throat and discharged the disk on his metal arm. The burst of electricity overloading the machinery, rendering it useless for the moment. With a powerful kick to the chest, you moved him just enough to get away from the table.

You ran to the kitchen looking for a weapon, any weapon. In your haste, you tripped over your own feet and into the stove. Your eyes fell on a large cast-iron frying pan. Bucky’s heavy footsteps thudded behind you. You couldn’t let him grab you again.

Grabbing the frying pan with both hands, you whirled around and hit Bucky in the head with all your might. With a grunt, Bucky slumped to the floor with a loud thud.

You stood there, panting heavily. Hands still clenched around the handle of the frying pan.

“Oh fuck,” you whispered when you noticed blood seeping from his head. You nudged Bucky with your foot; he didn’t stir. You bent down next to his head and checked his pulse with a shaky hand. His heartbeat was steady. You observed his chest rise and fall. You sighed in relief, he was knocked out cold.

Unsure how he would be when he eventually came to, you restrained his legs and hands with duct tape and removed the gun from the waistband of his pants. You dragged a chair from the table and sat near him.

Your hand went to your throat, you winced at the tenderness. It hurt to breathe. Your mind raced. Those words on the laptop must have activated his Winter Soldier programming. How could you have been so careless? You tried to shake the image of his cold stare from your mind. The man who attacked you was not the man you had been living with for the past ten months. You put your head in your hands and tried to even out your breathing.

After a half-hour, you heard him stir. Shakily, you cocked the gun, and watched him sit up with a low moan.

Bucky squinted his eyes and blinked a few times before his eyes focused on yours and the gun in your hand. “Y/N?” He made a move toward you but was hindered by the restraints. He looked down at his hands and his legs. “Wha-”

You gripped the gun a little tighter. “Which Bucky am I talking to?” you asked hoarsely. Your throat burned as you spoke.

Bucky swallowed thickly and gave a slight shake of his head. “You absolutely detest bananas. You call Barton ‘Dad’ and he calls you ‘Nightingale’.” His eyes were focused on you, filled with concern. The coldness gone.

You sighed in relief and placed the gun on the table next to the frying pan. Grabbing a knife from the knife block, you knelt in front of him, removing the duct tape. You noticed his eyes flick to your neck and then back up to your face. A look of horror crossed his features. You wouldn’t be able to hide these bruises this time.

“What happened? What did I do?” he stammered. His hand went to his head, prodding the gash; he winced.

You shook your head, standing up. “It was my fault. I didn’t expect you would be back this early.” You grabbed a rag and dampened it. You knelt down again and moved to wipe away the blood from the side of Bucky’s head. He caught your wrists; you flinched at the sudden movement. Bucky’s eyes widened at your reaction; he let go instantly.

“Tell me what happened...please.”

You sat back with a sigh, fiddling with the rag. “I think I accidentally triggered the Winter Soldier programming.”

“How?” he asked tightly.

“Those files I decrypted, most of them were video logs of briefings of some of your missions as a HYDRA operative,” you explained. Your voice grew more hoarse as you spoke. You cleared your throat, wincing as you did so. “They always started out the same way. They would wake you from cryo and then…” you looked down at your hands. Tears stung your eyes; you swallowed thickly. “Then they would wipe you.” Your voice was small and brittle. You sniffed, “After a while, I just…I couldn’t take it.” You ran your fingers under your eyes, wiping away your tears.

Bucky sat against the cabinets on the kitchen floor, stone-faced with a slight slump to his shoulders. He said nothing.

“Those words...are they some form of conditioning?”

He nodded slightly, “Yes.” His voice was low.

“And you don’t need to be wiped for them to work?”

He shook his head, “No.” He looked down.

You nodded, biting your lip. You picked up the damp rag and began to wipe the blood away from the gash on his forehead. He didn’t look at you. His mouth sat in a hard straight line.

After a moment, he spoke. “How did you get me out of it?”

“Cognitive recalibration,” you stated. He looked up with a questioning expression. “I hit you really hard on the head.” You gently spread some antiseptic ointment on the cut. “While under Loki’s control, Clint fought with Natasha. During the fight, she rammed his head into a steel pipe and then knocked him out. It was enough to bring him back.” You placed two butterfly closures around the cut on his forehead. “I didn’t have a steel pipe; so, I used that.” You gestured to the frying pan on the table. He gave a slight snort then looked away from you.

You turned his chin to look him in the eye. “This wasn’t your fault, James,” you stated firmly.

His gaze flicked to your neck once more and frowned. He stood up and walked away from you toward the picture windows. He ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. “I knew this would happen,” he murmured.

You followed him, “It was an accident.” You touched his arm; he jerked away, not meeting your eye. He turned away from you. The rejection of your touch stung. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be.”

“But I’m not. I know who you are. You are not the Winter Soldier.”

“But I am! I’m a monster.” He raised his voice. You knew he wasn’t angry with you. The self-loathing rippled off of him in waves.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you said calmly. You moved in front of him, forcing him to look at you. “You are many things, but a monster is not one of them.”

“I’m dangerous,” he said angrily. “I promised you would always be safe with me.” He gestured to your neck. “Clearly, that’s not the case.”

You scoffed, “You think I would be safer away from you? Where HYDRA could pick me off? And then use me to get to you?” You knew it was wrong to guilt-trip him, but he needed to understand your feelings. He looked down ashamed. You took his hand and squeezed. “You forget I made a promise to keep you safe too. I don’t ever break my promises.”

He looked up; there was sadness behind his eyes. He nodded once before pulling away. “I need some air,” he said, walking out the backdoor and down the path leading to the forest’s edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> So this is the first time I've actually written smut. ::impersonates Tony Stark:: I think I did okay. I honestly didn't really plan the smut, it just kinda happened. Hehe. Don't worry now that door is open there will be plenty more to come. ::waggles eyebrows::
> 
> Please don't kill me for the way I ended the chapter. It already killed me to end it this way. 
> 
> Please comment or leave kudos if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote: "Wait for It" from Hamilton.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT.

“ _ **Lover of mine, I know you're colourblind**_

_**I watched the world fall from your eyes,** _

_**All my regrets and things you can't forget** _

_**Light them all up, kiss them goodbye.”** _

  
~*~*~*~

**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. January 30, 2015.**

_You stared at the new file folder open on your desktop before typing one single word._

_HUNTER._

_You had consolidated every file, folder, and document related to your and Jessica’s investigation into your sister’s death. Their presence on your laptop was too painful. A reminder of all the time you had wasted. A reminder of the grief you had shoved down for years because accepting the truth was unthinkable. A reminder of the hope you had lost. You knew Hunter wouldn’t want you to wallow in grief. She had always wanted the very best for you._

_You weren’t going to delete the files; you couldn’t bring yourself to do that just yet. But, you needed them out of sight. You had to grieve her death properly this time. You had to let go._

“ _Hey, Bucky,” you called from the dining room table._

_You heard him round the corner, “Yeah, doll?” he said._

“ _Can you come here a second?”_

“ _Sure, what’s goin’ on?”_

_You gestured to the computer. “I have put everything regarding Hunter’s investigation into this folder. I need you to come up with a password to lock it, and don’t tell me.”_

“ _Okay, but why?”_

“ _It’s just too painful of a reminder.”_

“ _You sure, doll?” He placed his hand on your shoulder._

_You nodded. “I’m sure. I’ll put it on a flash drive and put it away.” You stood up from the chair and turned away from the table. Bucky took your seat and typed in a password._

“ _Done,” he said, turning to face you._

_Tears stung your eyes as you turned around. Bucky stood up from the chair and held out his arms. You wrapped your arms around his waist and placed your forehead against his chest. Bucky kissed the top of your head and held you. After a few moments, you pulled away. Bucky kissed your forehead before you moved to sit down at the computer once more. Bucky stood behind you; his hands rested on your shoulders._

_You breathed a laugh, “You’re too good to me, Sarge.”_

“ _I can be even better,” Bucky said with a hint of mischief behind his eyes._

_You cocked your head quizzically. You watched him head into the kitchen and open the freezer, taking out a pint of your favorite ice cream. He opened a drawer and grabbed a few items you couldn’t make out. He turned away from you,_ _obscuring_ _his movements. Once he was finished, he turned out the lights and made his way back to you. He carried two spoons and the ice cream carton with a lone birthday candle. Your eyes widened in surprise. The light from the candle flickered and danced across his chiseled face. It lit up his smile. He sat the carton in front of you._

“ _Happy birthday, doll.”_

_You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “I never told you my birthday.”_

_Bucky shrugged. “An alert pinged on my tablet a few days ago for a countdown to your birthday.”_

_You chuckled, you had forgotten about that. “You know this means we are going to celebrate your birthday too then, right? You’ll be...what...98?”_

_Bucky laughed, “I am assuming I don’t have a choice in the matter.”_

_You crinkled your nose and shook your head with a smile._

“ _Well, go ahead and make’a wish before wax gets everywhere.”_

_You closed your eyes for a moment before blowing out the candle. Bucky smiled, removing it. He licked the ice cream off the bottom. You chuckled as you handed him a spoon before digging in._

“ _So how old are you today?” Bucky asked, popping a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth._

“ _25\. So three fourths your age, Ole Timer,” you said, teasingly._

“ _Hey now, with age comes experience and wisdom.”_

_You snorted, “In what?” You licked the back of your spoon._

_Bucky smiled and waggled his eyebrows. In an instant, he was up out of his seat. He pulled you up and threw you over his shoulder. He quickly made his way toward the bedroom. You squealed and slapped his ass with your spoon. “Sarge!_ _Put_ _me down! The ice cream’s gonna melt.”_

“ _I gotta give ya your birthday gift, doll.”_

“ _Which is?”_

“ _My wisdom and experience,” he said as he tossed you on the bed, “in the bedroom.”_

_You rolled your eyes. “Pretty sure I’ve seen all your moves, Sarge.”_

_Bucky’s eyes darkened with lust. He grabbed you by the ankle and jerked you towards him; you gave a squeak of surprise. He leaned over you, hands on both sides of your head. His lips ghosted over yours. “Not all my moves, doll,” he whispered. You shivered; the familiar warmth building in your core._

“ _Now, as cute as you are in my sweatshirt and whatever these... tights...pant things are,” He picked at your leggings, “the pants need to come off.” He pushed off of you and stood back from the bed, arms folded._

_You sat up slowly, easing yourself off the bed. “I thought this was supposed to be my gift,” you pouted slightly. “So why am I undressing myself?”_

“ _Think of it as you unwrapping your present.” He shrugged, flashing you one of his signature smirks. “No one likes other people opening their presents for them.”_

_You rolled your eyes with a slight chuckle then sauntered over to the window, exaggerating the swing of your hips. With your back to him, you lifted up the sweatshirt to hook your thumbs in the waistband of your leggings. You desperately wanted to just rip them off your body, but you figured you would give him a show. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, you slid your leggings and underwear down your legs. You may have wanted to give him a show, but you figured you’d move things along slightly and remove them both at the same time. As gracefully as you could, you stepped out of them. You ran your hands up your legs as you stood up, arching your back as you did so._

_You felt Bucky come up behind you; you shivered in anticipation. His metal hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him. With his other hand, he moved your hair to one side. He began peppering kisses from your ear down your neck. With a sigh, you tilted your head to the side to give him better access; one of your hands snaked into his hair. Goosebumps made their way down your spine at his touch. You felt the heat grow between your thighs; you rubbed them together to create some sort of friction. You felt him chuckle lowly at your actions._

_He spun you around to face him, grabbing your hips. His fingers dug deliciously into your skin. His mouth captured yours in a passionate kiss; his tongue mingling with your own. He slowly moved you backwards, your breathing hitched as your back hit the window. His knee parted your legs, slightly widening your stance._

_Bucky broke the kiss and smiled. “You ready for your gift, doll?”_

“ _It’s not polite to keep a lady waiting, Sarge,” you breathed._

“ _Oh,” Bucky cooed as he knelt in front of you. Your breath quickened as his hands_ _ghosted_ _up your thighs, maintaining eye contact with him. “I am nothing if not polite.” He said as he brushed light kisses up the inside one of your thighs. Your legs quivered; you bit your lip. “My ma raised’a perfect gentleman.” The heat of his breath near your core made you dizzy._

_You tilted your head towards the ceiling as his mouth made contact with your folds, kissing the outside of your core softly. His stubble scratching the soft flesh of your thighs, sending a fiery heat through your veins. His tongue made long broad strokes up the length of your slit. It was all you could to keep your balance. Your hands pressed against the window; your fingers spread wide to anchor yourself. Bucky’s hands gripped your thighs, keeping you steady. You looked down to watch him work. Your mouth opened forming an “O” in a silent moan at the sight. His tongue moved expertly over your clit. He alternated long broad strokes with precise short flicks. You felt sweat prickle your skin between your breasts. Your breathing became ragged. No one had ever made you feel anything close to these sensations before._

_Unabashedly, you hooked one of your legs over his shoulders, opening yourself up further to his mouth. He hummed in approval; the vibrations sent you reeling as they hit your core. His tongue dove in and out of your slit._

“ _Oh gods,” you moaned. you threaded one of your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, greedy for more. He moved once more to your clit and began to suck. You arched your hips toward him when you felt one of his fingers on his right hand slide between your folds, curling to hit that_ _one_ _spot inside you so sweetly. The pleasure built in your core. Your moans became louder and more urgent as he added a second finger. His mouth unceasingly worshiping your clit. Your hips rolled with the rhythm of his movements._

“ _Sarge,” you choked out. The coil of pleasure wound tighter in your belly, ready to snap._

_His lips left your core to look at your face, his chin shiny with your wetness. “That’s it, doll.” His fingers focused on the sweet spot inside you. You kept your gaze locked on his as they pumped faster into you. His metal thumb found your clit, rubbing sweet exquisite circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “Let go.” Your eyes squeezed shut as the coil snapped. Your walls clenched around his fingers as you came, lewdly moaning his name._

_A haze of pleasure settled over your mind as he continued his movements extending your orgasm. Your moans became whimpers as you rode out your high. He slowly removed his fingers and you watched as he licked them clean. If you could have, you would have come again at the sight. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. You slid down the window. Your strength sapped; you wanted nothing more than to melt into the floor._

_Bucky pulled you into his lap, pushing your hair out of your face. You sighed in contentment, resting your forehead against his. Your eyes found his and smiled. “You, sir, are very much the perfect gentleman,” you breathed. Bucky chuckled and captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of your sex still lingered on his tongue._

_You stroked his face. “Now, I just have to find a way to top that for your birthday present.”_

_Bucky smiled and waggled his eyebrows once more. “Can’t wait.”_

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Inn River. The Austrian Alps. Early January 1945.**

_This was it._

_He was going to die._

_He was out of bullets and no match for the advanced weaponry HYDRA had at their disposal._

_He knew choosing to follow the little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight into war against HYDRA and The Red Skull would mean he would either live for Steve or die for him. He had been hoping for the former. He had been hoping to return home once the war was won and HYDRA defeated. He wanted to start his life on his own terms. There were worse ways to go. But that didn’t mean he had to be happy with the outcome._

_He allowed himself_ _a moment_ _to prepare for what was coming. Taking a moment to acknowledge the fear of death and the unknowns that surrounded it._ _He took_ _deep breaths to calm himself,_ _preparing to run_ _and_ _face the HYDRA agent head on. He may be going down, but goddamnit, he was going to take the enemy along for the ride._

_Then he heard the train car door slide open, revealing Steve on the other side. Relief coursed through his veins as Steve waved his pistol before tossing it to him. It seemed Steve was making up for all the times Bucky saved his ass from being beaten to a pulp after picking a fight with people twice his size._

_Steve barreled into the train car with the intent on drawing the remaining HYDRA agent out of his hiding place. As soon as he appeared, Bucky raised his pistol, making a perfect headshot. The agent dropped to the flood with a thud._

“ _I had him on the ropes,” Bucky panted._

“ _I know you did,” Steve replied._

_A whine of a weapon charging sounded behind them. Steve jumped in front of Bucky, shield at the ready. “Get down!” he shouted as the weapon fired, ripping the side of the Schnellzug EB912 wide open. Steve and Bucky were thrown apart._

_The weapon began charging again; this time the trooper aimed it directly at Steve. Without hesitation, Bucky picked up Captain America’s shield and held it out in front of him as he fired Steve’s pistol at their attacker, determined to bring him down. If this would be the way he would die then so be it. He was happy to die saving his best friend, his brother, one last time._

_The trooper turned to Bucky and fired the weapon once more. The energy rebounded off the vibranium shield. The resulting force catapulted Bucky backward and out of the hole in the train car._

_Bucky managed to grab a hold of a metal railing hanging on by a thread. The wind howled in his ears as he dangled above the gorge carved by the Inn River. Panicking, he tried to adjust his grip, but the jostling further loosened the rod from the side of the train._

“ _Bucky! Hang on!”_

_Bucky turned and looked as Steve carefully made his way towards him, clinging to the side of the train car determined to keep his footing._

“ _Grab my hand!”_

_Bucky released one of his hands from the metal rod and reached for Steve’s outstretched hand. Their fingertips brushed. For a second, Bucky allowed himself to rejoice in the fact that he had been saved by his friend once again. Then a sudden jolt from the train shook the rod loose and Bucky fell._

“ _NO!” He heard Steve cry as his own scream left his lips._

_He clenched his eyes shut awaiting the impact of the river below as he tumbled through the air. A sharp blow to his left arm ripped another scream from him as he bounced off of the cliff wall. A few more seconds and then his back broke the surface of the icy river with a sickening impact._

_His world went cold, dark, and silent._

_Sometime later, Bucky heard the babble of water moving past rocks and ice; it slowly brought him to his senses. He opened his eyes. He saw nothing but gray and felt fat wet snowflakes catch on his eyelashes. His breath made clouds of vapor in front of his face. Was this heaven? Or was this hell?_

_His left armed throbbed in agony. If he was dead, why was he feeling any pain? His eyes focused on the view above. Gray gave way to an outline of the cliff top and the brick viaduct that allowed trains to traverse a part of the gorge over the river. He squeezed his eyes shut, mustering all his strength in order to lift his head up. Every part of his body hurt; he breathed through the pain. His eyes focused on his left arm. Most of his jacket sleeve was torn away. Drops of blood were flecked across the patch shaped like a wing, the symbol of Captain America and his Howling Commandos. His gaze traveled down his arm. A strangled gasp left his lips as he observed the damage._

_His elbow and lower arm were gone, only a bloody stump remained. He assumed it had been ripped away when he had hit the cliff wall. His breathing became ragged. His head fell heavily back into the snow as he gave a few short agonized moans between breaths. He felt the water rush against his legs. He was halfway on the bank of the river; he could be swept away again if he didn’t move quickly._

_Gritting his teeth, he moved his right arm up and pulled with all his might using his legs to help push once they were able to find purchase on the bank. Once completely out of the water, Bucky’s strength faded and he felt consciousness slip from him._

_The sound of boots crunching in the snow brought him around. Again, a surge of hope filled his chest. “Steve?” he croaked, unable to move his head towards the sound. He heard more footsteps and then voices. As the voices got closer Bucky realized they weren’t speaking English or German. A figure in a fur hat and a thin moth-eaten brown coat appeared in his vision._

_A Soviet soldier._

_A small sigh of relief escaped him as the soldier stared at him, calling over his companions. Russia was a part of the Allied Powers. They would be able to get him back to Steve and his team. Even with one arm, he had a mission to finish. Hope bubbled in his chest._

_Bucky murmured numerous thank you’s as the small band of men constructed a litter and dragged him away from the riverbank. He allowed himself to be pulled under once more satisfied_ _in_ _the knowledge that he would see his best friend again soon._

_Unbeknownst to him, the choice to save Steve Rogers would be the last time_ _Bucky_ _would be able to assert his own free will for 69 years._

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Inn River. The Austrian Alps. March 2015.**

It had been almost a month since the incident. Bucky noticeably kept his distance. He wouldn’t touch you. His face was constantly twisted in a grimace. His eyes were sad. You continued to try and reach out to him. Offer him some form of comfort, reassurance, but he rebuffed your attempts.

He had even tried sleeping in a different room. However, his nightmares returned even worse than before. He would often wake you with his screaming, only waking up at your touch. You would plead with him to come back and sleep in your room. He would always refuse. What he didn’t know was that your nightmares had returned as well. You would wake up often, looking for him only to remember he was in another room and the reason why. You would cry yourself back to sleep on those nights.

It was only when he started to sleepwalk and you all but threatened to have Clint call the Avengers that he agreed to move back into the master bedroom. Night was the only time Bucky would accept your comfort, your touch. You would often soothe him back to sleep with various lullabies you knew; your chest pressed against his back. In the morning, however, he would be gone.

You needed each other. Both of you knew this. You convinced yourself this was one of the main reasons Bucky stayed; other than the overwhelming guilt he would feel if he ever left you. Which is why when he expressed a desire to find the location of his final Howling Commandos mission, where he had fallen off the Schnellzug EB912, he hadn’t argued when you told him he wouldn’t be going without you.

The day was sunny and clear. The sky was a brilliant blue. It hadn’t snowed in a few days. The Strategic Scientific Reserve or SSR reports of the incident indicated the train had been traversing the Alps at top speed next to the Inn River. Coordinates were given for where the Commandos had set up a zip line to board the train. That was where you were headed.

The car ride was silent. Bucky blankly stared at the road ahead, letting the GPS guide him. You stared out the passenger side window, watching the scenery change with the ebb and flow of the mountain road. The sunlight made the snow sparkle. Everything looked crisp and clean. It reminded you of early Spring days back in Telluride at your grandfather’s cabin. The first stirrings of the world who had spent the last few dark months asleep.

Bucky slowed down the car and parked at an overlook. “We’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot, but it’s not too far from here,” he said, not acknowledging you as he gathered his things from the back seat.

You nodded and gathered your pack before exiting the car. At the sight of the icy rocky terrain, you were grateful you had thought to wear sensible shoes. Bucky carefully picked his way down the rocks to a somewhat flat area toward the edge of the cliff. You followed his footsteps, being careful not to slip.

Bucky came to a stop at the edge of the cliff and looked out into the ravine below. You gave him some space leaning against the cliff wall. Sheer cliffs opened to a deep narrow gorge; remnants of an old railroad could be seen along the side of one of the mountains to the east. Viaducts dotted the cliffside.

“We boarded the train from here. We zip-lined down the mountain and onto the top of the train. We were barely on the train for a few minutes before...so the train could have only gone a few miles down the track.”

You were silent, letting him take the lead. He stared at the view; his hands shoved in his pockets of his jacket. You observed the tension in his shoulders and a slight tick in his jaw. After a moment, he turned back to you. You gave him a small smile. He let out a sigh; his face was unreadable.

“We should travel a few miles down the road, see if we can find another overlook, possibly a way down.”

You nodded, “Lead the way, Sarge.” He nodded once and made his way back to the car. You followed close behind.

Bucky drove the car a few more miles down the road until you came to a trail leading to another overlook. He parked once more and exited the car. You followed him as he made his way down the trail, taking in your surroundings as the forest gave way to a stunning view. A tall brick viaduct wound its way toward a mountain tunnel on the opposite side of the gorge. The cliffs were sheer and riddled with sharp outcroppings. You scanned your surroundings; you didn’t see any safe way down.

Bucky didn’t seem to either. He paced back and forth along the overlook’s edge like a caged animal. His fists clenched at his sides. When he turned to face you once more, a various range of emotions played across his face. Rage. Sadness. Fright. His breathing became erratic. His jaw tightened as if he were trying to hold back a scream. You made your way closer to him.

“It’s too much,” he gasped, placing his hands on his head. “I feel too much. Everything at once.”

“You’re allowed to have feelings, Bucky. You are allowed to express those emotions.” You reached for his hand, he jerked away and continued to pace.

“I shouldn’t even be here. Hell, I shouldn’t have even been here then. I didn’t want any of this!”

Your eyes burned with tears; your chest tightened. Watching him suffer was torture. You wanted so badly to end his pain, to take it from him somehow.

“I didn’t ask for any of this!” he shouted. “I followed Steve because it was the right thing to do. Where did he lead me?! Right into the hands of HYDRA! How is it that I try my damnedest to do the right thing and _I’m_ the one who keeps getting fucked over? There is no justice in that. It’s not fair!” He took a few deep breaths, running a hand through his hair. “I have done horrible things,” he whispered hoarsely.

“None of that was your fa– ,” you started, moving toward him once more.

Bucky spun around to face you. His face inches from yours. You didn’t dare flinch away from him. You stood your ground. You weren’t afraid of him. He needed to know that. If he didn’t believe your words, maybe he would believe your actions.

“Here’s the thing about mind control, the part they don’t tell you…that you’re still in there…'' he pointed a finger to his head. “Some small piece’a you is awake watching. Like bein’ a passenger in your own body.” You watched him struggle to keep his emotions at bay. “You struggle to break free...but you lose...over and over again...You lose and it makes whatever you are forced to do that much worse.”

He ran a hand over his face. “HYDRA took my memories, molded what was left behind into this machine…” He looked at his hands. “I was weak...I gave in...I am worthless...I will never be more than the machine they made me.” His voice cracked and it broke towards the end.

Tears flowed freely down your face as you watched him crumble. You shook your head, “That’s not true.”

“I’m a monster.”

You took his hand and squeezed it once. “No, you’re not.”

He searched your face in disbelief. “How is it that you can say that? You’ve seen the files. Hell, you have probably seen more of the files than I have. You’ve witnessed the machine they’ve made me. You carried the marks to prove it.” His metal fingers grazed your neck. The bruises from his hand had long since faded, but he acted as though he could still see them. “So how can you say things like that and believe them wholeheartedly when you have seen the things I’ve done? When you have experienced me at my worst?” He searched your face. Shame, doubt, and sadness shone in his eyes.

This was it. You needed to tell him how you felt. He deserved to know, and you wouldn’t be able to fully explain your reasoning for believing in him without it. You smiled softly, squeezing his hand again. “Because I love you,” you whispered.

Bucky stiffened and he hung his head. A beat of silence passed between the two of you. You held your breath. “You can’t fall in love with a monster.” His voice was small.

“You’re right...you can’t…” You reached up and delicately took his face in your hands, drawing his gaze to your face, meeting his eyes. “But I have fallen in love with a _man_...a _loyal_ man...a _trustworthy_ man. I have fallen in love with an _intelligent_ man...a _compassionate_ man...a _selfless_ man...a _kind_ man. I have fallen in love with a _**good**_ man.”

You felt hot tears cascade down your cheeks, but your voice remained steady and assured. “I know it is selfish of me to even be saying that I have fallen in love with you out loud. But gods, I can’t acknowledge why I believe in you without telling you.” Bucky’s face remained unreadable. A small seed of doubt crept into your mind. You shoved it away; you were almost certain he felt the same. He needed to hear this, no matter how he felt about you. “You need to know, despite everything HYDRA made you do, someone loves you unconditionally.” Bucky’s eyes closed, but he didn’t pull away. You stroked his hair.

“Burdening you with the knowledge of my feelings for you isn’t fair, I know, but you need to see yourself the way I see you, James.” A small sob escaped your lips; you swallowed thickly. “I see a good man who is worthy of all the good things life has to offer and more. Someone worthy of peace. Someone worthy of love in all its forms. You are worthy, James.” A tear escaped Bucky’s closed eyes; you wiped it away with your thumb. “And I’ll continue to tell you that every day if I have to.”

Bucky’s hands moved to cover yours. He took a rattled breath and opened his eyes, gazing intently into your own. “I am in love with you, and I’m terrified.”

Your heart rate skyrocketed; butterflies erupted in your stomach. You smiled, “I know.” You had known since that night you had realized the true nature of Hunter’s death. “I heard you tell me that night when you brought me in from the snow.” He smiled slightly. “I’m scared too, but that’s okay. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re right; I don’t. But, I don’t think we would ever hurt one another intentionally.” You removed your hands from his face, still keeping his hands in your own. You stepped closer to him.

He rested his forehead against yours. “I...I can’t lose you,” he breathed.

You smiled. “It’s like you told me that night.” You squeezed his hands once; he squeezed them back. “I’ll always be here.”

Bucky breathed a small laugh. It was music to your ears. Both of you stood this way for a moment. All was quiet. The wind ruffled your hair; strands danced across your face. Clouds of vapor intermingled from your breathing. His thumbs traced circles on the back of your hands. Nothing else existed at that moment except the two of you.

“Ești dragostea vieții mele,” he breathed, catching your eye. _(You are the love of my life.)_

“Inima mea îți aparține,” you replied. _(My heart is yours.)_

He smiled and cradled your neck. Your hands moved to his chest, leaning in to him. He pulled you closer; his lips brushed yours once before claiming them in a fierce kiss. Your heart fluttered as you inhaled a sharp breath through your nose. Your fingers clenched his shirt. His thumbs stroked your cheeks. The kiss was salty with your combined tears. Tears of happiness, of relief, of acceptance.

Bucky pulled away slightly and smiled. He kissed your forehead before pulling you into an embrace, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradled your head. You wrapped your arms around his waist and rubbed your hands up and down his back.

A sense of calm washed over you. You felt you were right where you were meant to be. You sighed in contentment. “Let’s go home.”

Bucky gave you a slight squeeze. “Yeah, let’s go home.”

You walked up the trail back to the car hand in hand, smiling the whole way. You weren’t naive enough to believe that with the confession of your feelings all of your problems would disappear. But, for the moment you let yourself revel in a moment of peace and happiness. You chuckled, “I do believe I owe you a belated birthday present.”

Bucky laughed out loud. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your hair.

  
  


_~*~*~*~_

  
  


**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. May 2015.**

The arrival of May finally brought springtime to the mountains. The snow had begun to melt. The flow of water down the mountain created short-lived waterfalls as they drained into the river below. The breeze was warm and the days were sunny most of the time. You and Bucky ventured outside more and more to do your training, eager for a change of scenery after being cooped up in the chalet for most of the winter.

You stood underneath a grove of trees and stretched your muscles. Over the past year, you had become stronger, leaner. You had small but impressive biceps which you would flex as often as you could just to hear Bucky laugh. Your fighting technique had improved vastly. You were now able to last longer in your daily bouts with Bucky, sometimes taking him by surprise with your moves. You lived for those moments.

As you stretched your triceps, Bucky’s arms sneaked around your waist, pressing his warm chest against your back. He kissed the shell of your ear, “Hey sugar, are you rationed?”

You snorted at the cheesy 40s pick up line. You continued to stretch, wrapping your arms around one another to stretch your shoulders. “Unfortunately, I carry a torch for someone else,” you replied.

Bucky buried his face in your hair. “That’s too bad, doll. What’s this man like so I know who my competition is?”

You brought one arm across your chest stretching your deltoids. “Well, he’s the whole package really. He’s tall, dark and handsome. The way he handles a knife could make any girl swoon. His hands are heavenly. And don’t even get me started on his eyes.” You felt Bucky smile against your neck as he slowly trailed kisses from your ear to your shoulder. “He’s also a huge nerd,” you chuckled. You turned around in his arms. Your fingers crawled up his chest, looking up at him through your lashes. “But that’s just my type.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it bad,” he said lowly, trailing his fingertips up and down your arms. You shivered at the contact.

“Oh, I do,” you whispered huskily. You pressed your body against his. “But, I haven’t even told you my favorite part about him.”

Bucky smiled, “And what’s that?”

You stood on your tiptoes, “His lips.” You brushed your lips over his teasingly, “He gives the best kisses.”

“If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask, doll,” Bucky chuckled.

You pulled away, “Oh no, I want more than just a kiss.”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow. You used your foot to drop him to the ground. He landed with a thud. “Oh ho, you’re gonna get it, doll,” he growled.

“Looking forward to it, Sarge.” You tilted your head with a smile as Bucky stood up.

He cricked his neck before throwing a punch your way. You ducked out of the way before kicking at him. He raised his knees to block your kicks. You used this time to move in closer to him. He grabbed your arms and spun you around wrapping his arms around you. You kicked off the ground using the momentum to cause him to lose his balance, sending both of you crashing to the ground. He quickly rolled over pinning you down, straddling your torso. Before he could grab your arms, you wrapped them around his chest. In one fluid motion, you pinned his left leg to the ground with your hip, using the shift in his balance to roll over on top of him. You quickly pinned his arms to the side with your knees. “Pinned ya,” you taunted, giving him a quick chaste kiss.

Bucky chuckled and sat up with you still in his lap. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you ground your core into his growing bulge. Bucky gave a low growl as he captured your lips. You moved your hands under his shirt and pulled it over his head. You ran your hands across the plains of his exposed chest, kissing his jaw and his neck. His arms traveled up your sides and pushed up your sports bra. He massaged your breasts, flicking his thumbs across your nipples. He continued his assault, sending lances of pleasure to your core. You mewled his name softly against his neck. His chest rumbled in a deep chuckle as he laid you back on the soft grass. His movements were gentle. Your hands lightly scratched his back as he kissed his way down your chest toward the waistband of your leggings.

Then a phone rang. Bucky looked at you confused. You mirrored his expression. You hadn’t heard a phone ring in a long time. Then you remembered. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Oh gods!”

You slithered out from underneath Bucky and scrambled toward your pile of things you always brought outside with you when you trained. One of them being the secure line given to you by Clint, just in case. You flipped open the phone to answer it.

“Dad?”

“Hey, Nightingale,” Clint’s voice was calm. “We have a bit of a situation.”

“Hang on, lemme put you on speaker.” You pulled the phone away from your ear, “If this ancient thing is even capable of speakerphone.” You pulled down your bra and quickly waved Bucky over, switching the phone to speaker. He pulled on his shirt and moved over to you. “Okay, Bucky’s here.”

“Hey Clint,” Bucky said.

“Hey man.”

“So what’s the sitch?” you asked.

“Well uh, long story short, Tony and Bruce created a murder bot that escaped through the Internet,” Clint said simply.

You raised an eyebrow and looked to Bucky, he looked just as confused as you were. “Do what now?”

“Maybe the long version?” Bucky asked.

“Tony and Bruce secretly tried using Loki’s scepter to create a new artificial intelligence as a peacekeeping program called Ultron; somehow they succeeded. But instead of being peaceful, it’s a little too fanatical, and it went rogue. Since it’s technically a program, it escaped via the internet after it attacked us.”

“Okay, so a rogue homicidal artificial intelligence program is loose on the internet. But why did you call us?” you asked. “That’s a bit beyond my area of expertise.”

“Because it’s been through all of our files, surveillance, emails, contacts, anything and everything on our computers.”

“Oh shit,” you breathed. Bucky looked alarmed.

“But, you said we weren’t goin-” Bucky started.

“And you aren’t,” Clint assured, “but it’s been through everyone’s emails. We still aren’t sure what exactly it was looking for.”

“But, all of the emails we send to each other are encrypted; Ultron shouldn’t be able to read them,” you stated.

“Ultron was made from an alien scepter and the framework for J.A.R.V.I.S. by two of the smartest people on the planet. I’m pretty sure it could get past anything if it needed to, even your encryption software.”

“If it finds out who I am and what I can do…” Bucky’s voice trailed off. You took his hand and squeezed it.

“Its main focus is on us at the moment,” Clint said. “I don’t think it would bother to come after you. But, it’s also made multiple robots; so it can be in multiple places at once.”

You frowned, “What do you propose we do?”

“Stay off the net until I contact you using this line,” Clint sighed, “And, I would recommend you move to a different safehouse, somewhere low profile.”

You sighed; your shoulders dropped. The chalet had been your home for almost a year. You and Bucky had established a routine. You were comfortable. You didn’t want to leave it. Bucky squeezed your hand sensing your unease. You looked at him and smiled sadly.

“Also we are dealing with two new enhanced individuals. One of them has powers of mental manipulation. We have reason to believe they may have teamed up with Ultron,” Clint added. Bucky stiffened slightly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose and let out a deep breath. “Fucking hell. Alright, Dad. I trust you.”

“I’m sorry, Nightingale,” Clint apologized. “I wish I were calling for a different reason.”

“You don’t need to apologize. If anything, you can punch Stark and his giant ass ego in the face for me. Leave Banner alone though; don’t want him to go all enormous green rage monster on you.”

“We’ll leave tonight,” Bucky said. “Thank you, Clint.”

“No problem, pal. Stay safe. I’ll call when this is all over.”

“Kick its ass, Dad.”

“Plan to, Nightingale. Stay off the net for now; we still don’t know what it is capable of.”

You hung up the phone with a frown and tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You brought the phone to your forehead and let out a ragged sigh.

Bucky put his arm around you and kissed your temple. “C’mon, we better get movin’. I want to get down the mountain before it gets dark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> Some more smut for ya. Cause let's face it a super-soldier on his knees in front of me and most likely the lot of you is the ultimate fantasy. 
> 
> Also yay love declarations!
> 
> Small time jump for next chapter, but we getting into the good shit now.
> 
> Please leave comments or kudos if you are enjoying the story! I am enjoying writing it!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote: "Lover of Mine" by 5 Seconds of Summer


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Spoilers for Star Wars: The Force Awakens. (If you haven't seen it, I'm sorry, but it's been five years.)

**_“What am I now?_ **

**_What if I‘m someone I don’t want around?_ **

**_I’m fallin’ again”_ **

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**HYDRA Safehouse. Bucharest, Romania. December 2015.**

It had been seven months since you and Bucky left the chalet. It pained you to leave, but it was necessary to avoid any possibility of being found by Ultron or his enhanced henchman. You and Bucky had agreed to move to a HYDRA safehouse instead of a S.H.I.E.L.D. one. It would be less secure, but there was less of a chance that Ultron would know about it. Since your European passports had you as Romanian nationals, you agreed to head to Bucharest.

Clint called about a week after warning you to tell you they had won and Ultron’s presence had been purged from the internet. You knew this though; you had been keeping up with the news. And boy, were the Avengers all over the news and not all of it was good. Personally, you didn’t understand the sudden vitriol against them. They had saved the world. Again. They had done the impossible. Again. If anything, the people of the world should have been falling on their knees in gratitude.

> “ _People are angry because, to quote you, I believe, ‘lots of damage and lots of people died’,” Bucky said as you watched the news coverage._
> 
> “ _But when you save the world sometimes you can’t save everyone or everything. It’s not fair, but there are losses with every win,” you replied._
> 
> “ _A lot of people can’t tell the difference between saving the world and destroying it. Even though the world was saved from a homicidal robot’s makeshift meteor, there are still people left behind to pick up the pieces so that they can rebuild. Sometimes living is harder than dying.”_

Due to the public outcry against the Avengers, and any enhanced individual for that matter, Clint advised against returning to the chalet. “Just until this whole mess blows over,” he assured. “You and Buck can’t afford to be discovered, not now.”

He also had informed you that the Ultron Offensive was his last mission as an Avenger and was now officially retired. “Don’t worry, I’ve got lots of projects on my honey-do list to keep me busy. I’ll still be here to help you, Nightingale, just not in any official capacity.” You and Bucky understood; Clint would have been killed had it not been for Pietro Maximoff, also known as Quicksilver, the enhanced former Ultron henchman turned Avenger. Dr. Helen Cho had been able to save Pietro with the Regeneration Cradle. She had been aboard the Helicarrier with an older model, almost identical to the one Ultron had taken. Clint owed him a debt, so he took him to the homestead to help him recover, both physically and mentally. It was just like Clint to take in strays. “You would like him, Y/N. He’s a sarcastic lil’ shit, just like you. Also, Buck may have some competition, Lila is head over heels for him.”

You had waited seven months, and the call for something to be done about the Avengers only grew louder. The hostility didn’t look to be diminishing any time soon.

The HYDRA safehouse was a tiny studio located on the top floor of an apartment complex that had seen better days. To be honest, you were sure that it had always been this grimy and dilapidated, even when it was newly built.

You tried your best to make it as comfortable as possible. Bucky built some makeshift shelves out of some old wood planks and cinder blocks, to hold his notebooks and your electronics. You bought a few fun mugs for tea and coffee as well as a few throw pillows for the small loveseat. Despite being on the top floor, you and Bucky placed newspapers over the windows to keep out any prying eyes. After months of living at the isolated chalet, you weren’t used to having so many neighbors. A thin double mattress on the floor served as your and Bucky’s bed. Honestly, the size didn’t bother you. You were happy to have Bucky so close at night; especially now, since winter had arrived and the apartment’s heating was less than reliable.

Overall, you kept a pretty low profile. You only went out when absolutely necessary, always armed. Not wanting to take any chances, Bucky always wore the nanomask when out in public, swapping appearances each time. You and Bucky established as close of a routine as you could to the one you had maintained while in Austria, minus the daily sparring so as to not alarm the neighbors.

More files were being decrypted by your programs every day which meant more information was coming to light, especially information regarding The Winter Soldier’s missions for HYDRA. Bucky had a good grasp on his life until World War II. After that, most of his memories were still jumbled and unclear as a result of HYDRA’s constant mind wipes. He would occasionally experience small flashbacks, but he was always unsure if they were real memories or ones HYDRA may have implanted inside his head.

You continued to watch videos and read all of the files on the Winter Soldier’s missions, providing Bucky with summaries and the occasional picture or video clip. It didn’t surprise you that there were more missions than the two dozen the intelligence community had originally thought. Initially, Bucky hadn’t wanted to review the files at all. It wasn’t a thread he wanted to pull. But, as the months went by, he grew curious and asked for more and more information. You didn’t agree with it; digging up traumatic memories would only bring him more pain. However, they weren’t your memories to keep from him. You gave him the information he asked for but continued to screen the files. You didn’t need another incident of accidentally triggering HYDRA’s Winter Soldier programming, especially now that you were surrounded by civilians.

Sitting at the small table with your knees to your chest, you stared at the photo on your computer screen. It was of Bucky circa 1943 dressed in his Army Greens. His face was clean-shaven; his hair cropped short. He wore his hat slightly cocked to the right side; which you were pretty sure was against Army regulations. The subtle act of rebellion made you smile. He looked so much younger, uncorrupted by pain and trauma. His eyes were bright and eager. There were no worry lines on his forehead. The corner of his mouth upticked in a slight smile. You knew he had been drafted. You knew he didn’t want to go to war. But in this picture, you couldn’t tell. He looked almost excited. You ran your thumb across the plane of his cheekbone. You made a mental note to have this picture printed and framed, once you were able.

“Now who is that handsome kid?” Bucky said coming up behind you. He tilted your chin back with his metal hand to give you a gentle kiss. His lips were soft. His slight beard scratched your nose. He tasted like mint and plums.

You smiled as he broke away, kissing the tip of your nose before pulling away completely. “Hi,” you said softly.

“Hi,” he greeted as he sat in the chair next to you. “Where did you find that photo?”

“It was in one of the SSR files I recently decrypted,” You replied, uncurling your legs and laying your feet in his lap. He absentmindedly traced circles around your knees. “I love it; you look so boyish.” You glanced at him and then back to the photo. “I can’t decide if I like the clean-cut version more,” you gestured to the photo, “or the rugged, bearded long-haired version more,” you gestured to him. He chuffed and flashed you his signature smirk. You tapped your finger to your chin. “Then again, the long hair gives me something to hold on to when we ‘fondue’.” Bucky rolled his eyes at the use of Steve’s euphemism and began tickling the bottom of your foot. You squeaked, wiggling your foot to try and escape his assault. “Hey, hey, I only speak the truth,” you said through your giggles.

“I thought about cutting my hair again, but since you like it so much I may keep it,” he chuckled.

“Yay,” you said, softly clapping your hands.

“You’re adorable.” Bucky shook his head and bit his lip. “I have an early Christmas present for you.”

You cocked your head to the side, “Oh?”

Bucky reached into his jacket pulling out two small slips of paper and handed them to you. “Movie tickets?” you asked as you read the small print. Your eyes widened as you sat up a little straighter. “The new Star Wars movie?!” you said excitedly.

Bucky smiled, “I figured it’s about time I take you on a proper date, doll.”

You grinned from ear to ear. “I think so too. Not that I don’t enjoy our nights in.” You waggled your eyebrows. He rolled his eyes. “Are you sure you will be okay with wearing the nanomask for that long?”

Bucky nodded, “As long as I am with you, I don’t mind it so much.”

You leaned toward him and kissed his cheek. “I love it, Sarge. Thank you.” You rose out of your chair. “I have your present too; if you want it early. After last year, I was not about to be caught dead without a present for you.” You made your way over to your laptop bag.

Bucky chuckled, “Sure why not?”

You grinned, “Good, close your eyes. It’s not wrapped.”

“Really, doll?”

“Hey, you made me do it last year.”

“Fair enough.” Bucky closed his eyes.

You took his present out of your bag. You had found it at a resale shop when you went out to buy groceries a few weeks ago. It was an old iPod Classic, still in great condition. You smiled at the idea of him creating his own playlists and discovering new music that he liked.

You placed the gadget in his hands. “You can open them now.”

Bucky eyed his present intently, flipping it over in his hands. “What is it?”

You chuckled, “It’s an iPod. It holds hundreds of hours worth of music. You listen to it with the headphones.”

Bucky’s face lit up with excitement. “This is amazing, doll.”

You sat down next to him. “I’m glad you like it. I took the liberty of putting some music on there for you already. May I?” You held out your hand.

Bucky nodded, handing you the iPod. You turned it on and scrolled down to the playlists. “I made you a playlist of the songs I have played for you that you said you liked, Sinatra, ABBA, The Carpenters, Marvin Gaye, and Taylor Swift. I still can’t get over the fact that you like Taylor Swift, by the way. There is some other stuff on here that I think you will like too. The best part is if you find something you like that’s not on here I can download it for you.” You handed the mp3 player back to him.

He scrolled through the list of songs; his smile getting bigger as he did so. “I love it.” He leaned over and kissed you. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said, feeling a slight heat rise to your cheeks.

“Now, go get dressed, doll. We’ve got a movie to catch.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


“Ben Solo must be protected at all costs,” you stated as you and Bucky made your way up the endless staircase to the safehouse, walking arm in arm.

“Kylo Ren!? No! Why? He killed Han! His own father!” Bucky replied, incredulously.

“He’s just misunderstood; plus he’s Leia’s son and that alone means he is worth saving,” you mused.

“Nope. No way. He killed Han. No redemption,” Bucky stated, shaking his head. You chuckled. Han Solo was Bucky’s favorite character, so naturally, he was devastated that his own son had killed him in order to fully turn to the Dark Side. You wished you could have filmed his reaction. You were sure he had shed a tear or two.

“What do you think of the newbies, other than Ben Solo?” you asked with a smile.

Bucky pondered for a moment. “Well, I like Finn. I kinda hope he gets to become a Jedi. And, Rey is just like Steve, reckless as hell but for the right reasons.”

You nodded in agreement. You had been pleasantly surprised when the new main character's name was the same as your late friend. She would have gotten a kick out of that and bragged that she was now a Star Wars character and you weren’t.

“Poe reminds me a lot of you,” Bucky looked down at you and grinned, “so much sass.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed him slightly with your shoulder. “What about Rey’s family? I think she’s a Kenobi.”

“How is she a Kenobi? Obi-Wan was a ‘by the book’ Jedi.”

“You remember those episodes of The Clone Wars we watched with him and Satine? He said he would have left the order for her if she asked him too. And, there is the mysterious parentage of Korkie Kryze. Rey could be like his granddaughter or something.”

Bucky squinted his eyes and shrugged, “Eh.”

“I mean it’s so obvious. He’s the one talking to her when she had those visions. Also, her first real use of the Force is a Jedi mind trick; a skill that Obi-Wan was exceptionally good at.”

“I dunno, doll. I kinda like the idea of her being a nobody,” Bucky mused. “The idea that you don’t have to have a powerful family line to become great.”

“I can see that too and I wouldn’t mind it,” you nodded. “Still think she is a Kenobi though. It would be poetic. The granddaughter of Obi-Wan Kenobi and the grandson of Anakin Skywalker. Master and padawan together again in a sense. The saga could come full circle.”

Bucky nodded in agreement, “Just watch the producers fuck up royally and both of us be wrong,” he laughed.

“Oh trust me,” you snorted. “Heads will roll if they fuck up. They will get a strongly worded anonymously written letter telling them someone is coming for their kneecaps.”

Bucky chuckled as he unlocked the door, “So date night was a success?”

“Mhmm, very much so, Sarge. Best Christmas present ever.”

He smirked, “Good ‘cause that means I can give you the second part of your present.” He opened the door.

You tilted your head to the side, “Wha-”

Bucky hoisted you over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise. “I think you would know what’s or rather who’s coming by now, doll,” he said as he shut the door, preventing your howl of laughter from echoing down the staircase.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**HYDRA Safehouse. Bucharest, Romania. February 2016.**

The sound of metal fingers tapping on a laptop keyboard slowly woke you. You reached out to the right side of the bed and found it empty. The room was dark. You looked over to the small table where your laptop sat. The light from the screen illuminated the planes of Bucky’s face as he glanced back and forth from it to his notebook. Every so often he would jot something down. You checked the small alarm clock that rested by Bucky’s side of the bed.

_3:00 AM? What the hell?_

He must have brought you to bed after you fell asleep while watching a movie. You rubbed your eyes and pulled back the blankets, fumbling for your socks. You were not about the trek across the room barefoot on the cold floor. If Bucky heard your movements, he didn’t acknowledge you. You rose from the bed and crossed the room to the table. You ran your palms across his shoulders, kneading the muscles with your thumbs.

“C’mon, Sarge. The files will still be there in the morning,” you said huskily, your voice still thick with sleep. “It’s not like we have to be anywhere tomorrow.”

Bucky’s eyes didn’t stray from the screen. “I’ll come to bed soon. These are almost done being analyzed, doll.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. “And, I still have to make sure they don’t have anything that could trigger the Soldier’s programming.”

“I won’t watch any of the videos,” he assured as he wrote another note in his notebook.

“You’ve been at this all day.” You sat down next to him. “Besides if you fall asleep here, I can’t carry you back to bed.” Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on the screen. “You need rest; you won’t be able to function properly without it.”

“Super-soldier serum,” he muttered, continuing to type.

You gently laid your hands over his, stilling his movements across the keyboard. He looked up, meeting your gaze for the first time. His eyes were tired and bloodshot, dark circles had begun to appear underneath them. “Just for a few hours…” Bucky’s eyes looked back to the screen and then back to you. “Please, James,” you pleaded softly, rubbing your thumb across the small scars on the back of his hand. He looked down with a stifled yawn, nodding slightly.

You powered the laptop’s screen down. “I’ll let it keep running.” You took his hand once more and led him to the bed.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**HYDRA Safehouse. Bucharest, Romania. May 2016.**

Over the past few months, late nights for Bucky were becoming more and more common. When you would inevitably wake up in the middle of the night looking for him, he would no longer come to bed when you asked. He would often fall asleep at the computer, and even then he would never sleep for too long. He constantly had his nose buried in his tablet, his notebooks, or your laptop, trying to come to terms with his actions as the Winter Soldier.

Today, he was reviewing files on The Black Widow Program. Apparently, the Winter Soldier was used a few times to train the girls of The Red Room in the late 90s, coincidentally when Natasha Romanoff, known then Natalia Alianovna Romanov, was finishing her training there. Of all of the files you had reviewed, those files and reports of little girls being forced to kill other little girls, their peers, possibly their friends, upset you the most, apart from any file that showed Bucky being wiped.

You placed a sandwich in front of him, “It’s a gorgeous day outside. I thought maybe we could go to that outdoor market we like later today; you know that one with all the fresh fruit.” You took a seat next to him with your own sandwich.

“Mmm, I’m good,” Bucky hummed, keeping his eyes on his tablet. “You can go without me.”

You pushed the sandwich closer to him. “C’mon, Sarge, it would be good for you to get out of the house.” A little over a year ago you had been in this exact same situation; now the roles were reversed. _How the tables have turned._ Bucky hadn’t given up on you then, so you weren’t about to give up on him now.

“I need to finish this,” Bucky said, tightly.

You sighed, running your hand through your hair. “When’s this going to end, Buck?” you said exasperatedly. “At some point, we have to let the past be just that, the past. We can’t go back. Sometimes the best thing we can do is start over.”

“Coming from a girl who couldn’t let her sister go,” Bucky snapped. “You spent years trying to convince yourself she wasn’t dead.”

You stiffened at the mention of Hunter. You grabbed the tablet from his hands and stood up, moving toward the kitchen, “That’s not fair.”

“But it’s true,” Bucky said, following you. “Give it back.”

“No,” you said firmly, “I am trying to move on now. I got rid of all those files. You don’t see me obsessing over them anymore. At some point, we just have to say enough is enough.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like,” Bucky placed in palms on the edge of the counter, gripping it tightly.

“Then help me understand! Fucking talk to me!” You moved closer to him. “You are doing the same thing I did last year; you saw how much it affected me.” You pointed to your chest. “I know how much it affected you. Now, I’ve realized my sister would have wanted me to make new memories and not dwell on old ones. At some point, we have to move on. And, I’m trying to do just that. I want to make new memories with those I love.” You moved to take his hand, “With you.”

Bucky jerked his hand away. “What we have isn’t love,” he spat. “Not romantic love anyway.” He walked towards the window, crossing his arms across his chest. “No, what we have is comfort. That’s all this is.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What...What are you saying?”

“C’mon, doll,” he said condescendingly. “We both know that this,” he gestured between you and him, “this relationship only exists because you got stuck with me that day at the museum.”

You scoffed. “I knew who you were the moment I laid eyes on you. And I still offered to help you. I wanted to help you.” You raised your voice, not believing what you were hearing.

“Of course you did!” His voice rose to match your volume, his nostrils flared. “You used it as an excuse to run away from your problems.”

“News flash,” you shook your head with a sharp laugh. “I have been running from my problems long before I met you, pal.”

“Then who’s to say that you being with me isn’t you still running, trying to avoid the pain and grief,” he sneered. “Like that night in the snow and every other time, you have asked me to help you forget.”

“I have never once asked you for sex to help me forget. I would _never_ use you in that way,” you said tightly. “If you really believed that, you would have stopped when I asked if you wanted to stop that first night.” Your blood was boiling at this point. He was shutting you out, trying to alienate you. And, he was succeeding. You threw your hands in the air. “But fine, if you want to reduce our relationship down to transference and seeking comfort, nothing but fuck buddies, then go ahead!” you shook a finger in his direction, “but you know as well as I do that’s a fucking lie.”

Bucky was silent. He stared at you. His mouth sat in a hard line. He drew in slow steady breaths.

“You may be uncertain about your feelings for me, James Barnes,” your voice shook as you held his gaze. “But, I am damn sure about my feelings for you. So, don’t you dare try to tell me otherwise.”

A few beats of silence passed. Bucky exhaled a sharp breath through his nose; he was the first to look away. “I need some time alone.”

You swallowed hard. You tilted your chin toward the front door. “The door is that way.”

Bucky nodded once and moved to grab his keys, a pen, and his notebook without another word. You didn’t turn around to watch him walk out the front door. You jumped when it slammed shut.

You stood in the kitchen for a moment, a few tears falling from your eyes. You quickly wiped them away with your sleeve, sniffing hard. You grabbed the two sandwiches and threw them in the trash can. You attempted to wash the plates; after a few moments, you dropped them in the sink with a clatter. Gripping the sides of the sink tightly, a small sob escaped before the dam broke. You brought the back of your hand to your mouth in an effort to stifle the sobs. An overwhelming feeling of loss spread through you. You backed into the island and slid to the floor, wrapping your arms around your knees as you wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> This one was hard to write for me; maybe it's because I don't like confrontation or fighting. But it was necessary. Relationships aren't always sunshine and rainbows. 
> 
> Also, yeah, Pietro is NOT dead. FUCK YOU WHEDON! 
> 
> I'm thinking there are probably about 5 more chapters in this story, give or take, judging by the outlining I have done. I am planning a second part though, not to worry.
> 
> Please comment or leave kudos if you are enjoying the story. I am having a really fun time writing it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote: "Falling" by Harry Styles.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10/26/20: Minor edits made. Main plot points don't change.

“ **_Compromise where you can. But where you can't, don't._ **

**_Even if everyone is telling you that something wrong is something right._ **

**_Even if the whole world is telling you to move…_ **

**_It is your duty to plant yourself like a tree, look them in the eye and say_ **

‘ **_No, you move’.”_ **

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**HYDRA Safehouse. Bucharest, Romania. May 2016.**

It had been three days since your and Bucky’s fight, and so much had happened in those three days.

Former S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Peggy Carter had died. While her death wasn’t shocking, it was still hard on you. You had grown up with stories of Peggy told to you by your grandfather. She was one of your first role models. You never had the chance to meet the woman, but you respected her all the same. Parts of her funeral were televised. You noted Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson to be among the attendees.

You had met Steve a few times before when you worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. He sometimes accompanied Clint to your office when he dropped off intel; he would make small talk with you and had made a point to learn your name. If he saw you in the hallways, he would always say hello. 

It made sense for Steve to be there. He had served with Peggy during the war, and had things gone differently, he most likely would have married her. You couldn’t imagine how he must have been feeling, to have the love of his life back only then to have her taken away a few years later.

You were also made aware of the United Nations’ Peace Conference which looked to ratify the Sokovia Accords. On the surface, the Accords looked to be an international agreement regulating the missions of the Avengers by establishing a UN panel to supervise them if and when they were asked to meet. However, the whole ordeal seemed odd to you. There was absolutely no way in hell those Accords were drafted and approved by 117 countries within the span of a week, only to be ratified three days later. So, you did some research.

You discovered that the Accords did indeed prohibit those who refused to sign clearance to participate in any sort of conflict either within their own country or internationally. It indicated that if any enhanced individual who hadn’t signed would be arrested should they use their powers to break the law or even help during any particular conflict. What worried you was the regulation that stated enhanced persons in those situations were to be detained indefinitely without a trial. That almost certainly was unconstitutional, at least in the United States. Even more insidious was the regulation which stipulated that those who agreed with them would be required to register with the United Nations as well as provide fingerprints and DNA samples. They would also be required to reveal their secret identities if they had one. Those with innate powers such as those of Wanda and Pietro Maximoff would be required to wear tracking bracelets.

To you, the whole document looked to be discriminatory and a gross violation of civil rights. However, the speed at which they were ratifying the Accords left no time for anyone to even read let alone discuss possible alternate plans. If you were enhanced or a member of the Avengers, you wouldn’t touch the Accords with a ten-foot pole. There was too much opportunity for people with agendas to use or not use the Avengers for their own personal gain. It reminded you of HYDRA and their belief that in order to be truly safe, freedoms had to be sacrificed. You knew that Bucky wouldn’t agree to them in the slightest.

You continued to scroll through the document trying to distract yourself from the fact that Bucky had still not returned to the apartment. He had never left you for this length of time. The most time you had ever left each other alone was about half a day when you would do solo supply runs in Austria. You knew he was capable of taking care of himself, but if HYDRA managed to get ahold of him, there was no telling where he may be. What if they knew how to activate the Winter Soldier programming? What if they were able to wipe him again, erasing all of his memories from the past two years? That thought frightened you more than him reverting to Winter Soldier mode.

You picked and chewed your cuticles raw as you paced the length of the apartment, tablet in hand. You had barely slept or ate since he left. Your mind raced as you ruminated over all the possibilities as to why he hadn’t returned. He had to come back at some point; he left behind all of his weapons, his IDs, and passports. Then again if HYDRA had him, he wouldn’t need them.

A soft thud on the roof of your apartment caught your attention. You heard the soft whine of thrusters followed by muffled voices. As silently as possible, you quickly grabbed a Sig Saur Bucky kept by his bedside, cocking it. Through the newspaper, you could see a large figure drop down onto your balcony and dart around to the apartment’s back door. You moved silently into the dark bathroom, keeping your hand poised above the trigger.

You heard the back door softly forced open and then a man’s voice as he made his way into the safehouse.

“It’s empty, Sam. He’s not here.”

You frowned; obviously, these people were searching for Bucky. Even though he wasn’t here, you couldn’t have them be here when he returned. Who knows what they knew about him.

“No, I don’t think he skipped town. This place looks lived in and his stuff is still here.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out from behind the bathroom door, gun drawn and pointed at the intruder, whose back was turned as he faced the refrigerator.

“I think he might be living with some-”

“Ai cinci secunde să pleci, sau o voi face eu…” _(You have five seconds to get the fuck out, or I will…)_ you paused, finally getting a good look at the man. He was tall and broad-shouldered like Bucky. He wore a red, white, and blue uniform. He carried a round shield on his back. Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Captain Rogers?”

Slowly, Steve turned around. His eyes lit up with recognition and surprise. “Y/N? Is that you?”

You crossed the room to the dining table, shoving the gun in the waistband of your jeans. “What are you doing sneaking into my apartment, Rogers? Don’t you have the Sokovia Accords to deal with right now?”

“That’s why I am here,” Steve stated. He moved closer to you.

“I don’t see how the Accords have anything to do with me.” You grabbed your laptop and placed it in your laptop bag. “I don’t work for S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore, not since the HYDRA Uprising.”

“Not you...but you know someone who they do affect.”

“I am not sure who you are talking about…” You feigned ignorance. “I haven-”

“I know he’s here.” He held up one of Bucky’s notebooks. “This is his handwriting.”

You swallowed. “He’s not here. He’s gone.”

“Where?” he asked urgently. Steve was inches away from you now. His body was tense.

“I don’t know.” You backed up slightly, moving around him to place your laptop bag on the love seat.

“The UN’s peace conference in Vienna was bombed yesterday. A lot of people, _good_ people, are dead. They think Bucky is responsible.”

Your body went rigid at his words.

“I need you to do better than I don’t know.” His voice was authoritative.

You ran your hand through your hair and sighed. “I honestly don’t know, Rogers. He-” You were cut off by the sound of a key turning the lock on the front door. “Shit.” You quickly shoved Steve into the bathroom. He was caught off guard but didn’t fight you. “He can’t see you. I honestly don’t know how he will react to seeing you. Just…please, let me talk to him first.” You cracked the door, as Bucky entered the apartment and sat a plastic bag of plums on the table.

“We need to get out of here, now,” he stated hurriedly as he began to gather his things into his go-bag. He looked spooked.

“Bucky, where have y-”

“Pack your stuff.” He thrust your go-bag into your hands.

“Why?”

Bucky handed you a newspaper and went back to shoving notebooks into his backpack. Your eyes widened as you read the headline; “Winter Soldier căutat pentru Bombardamentul din Viena”. _(Winter Soldier Wanted for the Vienna Bombing.)_ Underneath was a blurry screen capture from a security camera displaying a man who looked similar to Bucky, but it was difficult to tell due to the picture quality.

“What is this?” you pointed to the photo. “What did you do?”

Bucky whirled around to face you. “You honestly think I would do something like this?” He looked hurt by your words.

“I don’t know what to believe, James! You won’t fucking talk to me anymore!” You slapped the newspaper down on the table. “You just fucking left! It’s been 3 goddamn days! You didn’t tell me where you were going or why. For all I knew, HYDRA got you and it was only a matter of time before they came for me.”

Bucky raised one of his hands. “Look, we can talk about that later. Someone recognized me at the market.”

Your eyes widened, “You went out without the nanomask?! You can’t-”

“It doesn’t matter now!” Bucky cut you off. “We need to go right now. They’ll be coming for us soon.”

You noticed Steve step out from the bathroom when Bucky’s back was turned. “Sarge…we can’t go anywhere…”

He looked at you, confused “What are you talking about? Why?”

You nodded toward the bathroom; Bucky followed your gaze. “Because someone is already here.”

“Do you know me?” Steve asked, directing his question to Bucky.

Bucky stood frozen as he watched Steve cross the apartment to the kitchen. “You’re Steve...I read about you in a museum.”

“I know you're nervous. And you have plenty of reason to be. But you're lying.” Steve laid down the notebook he had been holding.

“I wasn’t in Vienna,” Bucky stated firmly. “I don’t do that anymore. Ask her.” He nodded in your direction. While they were talking, you began to hastily pack your laptop bag, stuffing in yours and Bucky’s IDs and passports, his iPod, your green anorak jacket, along with the remaining piles of cash.

“Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. And they're not planning on taking you alive.”

You stopped breathing for a moment at this new information.

_Shit. Shit. Shit._

You scrambled for your tactical suit and boots. You quickly pulled the pants over your jeans, returning the Sig to the stitched on thigh holster. You ripped off your sweatshirt, pulling the jacket over your tank top. You sat down on the mattress to pull on your boots, quickly buckling on your ankle holster which contained your Smith and Wesson pistol. You pulled the leg of your tactical pants over it, concealing it from view.

“That’s smart,” Bucky said, swallowing, “Good strategy.”

The sounds of multiple footsteps pounded on the roof. You dove for your laptop bag, throwing it over your shoulder. You patted down your jacket pockets making sure your taser disks were where you had left them before standing near Bucky, ready to run at a moment’s notice.

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight, Buck,” Steve said.

Bucky removed his glove from his metal arm. “It always ends in a fight.” Your heart sank at his words.

“You pulled me from the river!” Steve shouted. “Why?”

Steve knew why. You knew why. Bucky knew why.

“I don’t know.” Bucky lied.

“Yes, you do,” Steve said.

A beat of silence passed. Then a grenade crashed through the window near Steve, who knocked it back with his shield. It exploded near the sink.

You darted behind Bucky. Another crashed into the apartment, landing at his feet. He kicked it to Steve who threw his shield on top of it, allowing the vibranium to absorb the explosion. Something large pounded on the front door. Bucky grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in close as he lifted the mattress from the floor, blocking another grenade. He shoved you towards Steve before throwing the dining table at the front door in an attempt to barricade the entrance.

Two agents crashed through the windows, shattering the glass. Bucky and Steve engaged them while you ran for the backdoor, grabbing Bucky’s go-bag. Bullets flew through the apartment; a few hit your tactical pants. You felt the welts rising on your skin.

You threw open the door only to be met by another special forces agent. Without a second thought, you kicked him hard in the chest, almost toppling him over the balcony railing. Bucky grabbed your arms, spinning you around. You handed him his go-bag.

“Get outta here! Go!” He began shoving you out the backdoor.

“What about you?!” you exclaimed. Your heart pounded in your ears.

“I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point.”

You nodded. When you arrived in Bucharest, you and Bucky made plans to return to the chalet if you ever became separated. “And, if you don’t?”

“Then call Dad,” he stated.

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it, making eye contact with him. “Give ‘em hell.” You searched his face; you wanted so badly to kiss him.

Bucky flashed you his signature smirk and squeezed back. “Yes, ma’am.” Another agent crashed through a window. “Now, go!” Bucky flung his go-bag onto the rooftop of the building next door before deflecting oncoming bullets with his metal arm. Steve moved to cover him. Their arms wrapping around one another as they did so. Even after all these years, their fighting styles remained in sync with one another. With one final look into the apartment, you took off toward the opposite end of the complex and the emergency staircase.

The sound of bullets and shouting grew quiet as you neared the staircase. You threw open the door and gasped. Five GSG-9 agents trained their guns on your form.

_Ah, fuck me._

They shouted commands in German. It seemed they had been alerted to your connection with Bucky and Steve. They treated you as a hostile, but without the extreme prejudice, their comrades were showing Bucky and Steve. There was no way you would be able to take on all five at once. You held up your hands. The agents surrounded you and brought your hands in front of you, cuffing them together. Roughly they patted you down, relieving you of the Sig in your thigh holster and your laptop bag. However, they missed your ankle holster and the taser disks in your jacket pockets.

Once satisfied that you were free of all weapons and properly restrained, they led you down the staircase to the perimeter they had set up around the apartment, complex placing you in the back of a black Audi SUV.

You threw your head back against the seat. How could have been so stupid to think they wouldn’t have had the other stairwells covered? Even though you still had some of your weapons, there was no way you could make it past the perimeter without being caught. There were too many agents and they only seemed to grow in number as the minutes ticked by. You could only hope Bucky evaded capture. You would most likely be deported back to the US, but Bucky would face a lot worse. You watched agents rush around trying to coordinate more attacks.

Suddenly a helicopter flew low overhead to the building next door and began to fire at something on the rooftop. You observed Falcon swoop in and knock it off balance. The agents were bumping into one another as they all bolted for their cars and began to drive off one by one sirens blaring. A balding agent with a buzzcut opened the car door and threw himself in the driver’s seat, not acknowledging you.

He turned on the car and the sirens and sped off towards the highway near the apartment complex.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Bucharest Highway. Romania. May 2016.**

With sirens blaring, the SUV speedily weaved in and out of the traffic on the Bucharest city highway, sometimes scraping against the side of unsuspecting cars. You bounced around in the backseat, having been unable to properly restrain yourself due to your cuffed hands.

The sirens echoed off the underpass’ tunnels. Flashing blue lights reflected off the walls. You caught sight of three figures running through traffic. You blinked a few times when you realized they were outpacing the cars on the road.

“Oh gods,” you murmured, as you realized you had never seen the true extent of Bucky’s enhanced physical strength and stamina.

As the SUV drew closer to the third figure, the agent yelled into a microphone. “STAND DOWN!” The order echoed off the brick walls of the tunnel.

The third figure glanced behind him and seemed to slow down.

“STAND DOWN!”

Without warning, the figure jumped onto the windshield. His round red, white and blue shield splintering the glass, almost shattering it. The driver slammed on the breaks, coming to a sudden stop. You were thrown forward, knocking your head into the seat in front of you.

“Shit!” The taste of copper filled your mouth. The impact caused you to split your bottom lip with your teeth.

The driver’s side door opened and the agent was thrown out. Kicking out the windshield, Steve Rogers stepped in.

“What the actual fuck, Rogers!?” you said climbing over the center console into the front seat as he sped off to rejoin the chase. Your hair whipped around from the wind.

“Language!” Steve shouted, keeping his eyes on the road, bobbing in and out around other cars.

“Oh cut the shit, Rogers,” you wiped your lip and fumbled around for a key to your handcuffs. “I know for a fact you used to swear like a sailor.”

Steve looked at you with a huff.

“You think you can help me out?” You held up your hands, rattling the cuffs. “You kinda threw out the guy with the key.” You placed the cuffs on the center console. Steve raised his shield and struck the chain linking the two cuffs, breaking them apart.

Steve continued to speed down the highway overtaking the second figure in order to get to Bucky. The figure jumped onto the back of the SUV with a thud. You glanced behind you at what appeared to be a man dressed in an all-black catsuit. “What the hell is that?” Steve swerved left and right trying to shake him off the car. You dove for the gun at your ankle.

You quickly turned around and fired off a few shots, shattering the back window. The bullets bounced off the man’s suit. “Of fucking course his suit is bulletproof,” you muttered, “I shouldn’t expect anything less at this point.” You slid the gun into your thigh holster, gripping the center console and the door handle for support.

Steve continued to swerve left and right. Side swiping unsuspecting cars and special forces SUVs, trying to knock him off. “Sam! I can’t shake this guy!” Steve yelled into his earpiece.

You and Steve had made it closer to Bucky. Blue lights flashed ahead as more police vehicles made their way down the highway into oncoming traffic. Bucky veered left, in between a barrier of 50-gallon drums. Steve followed suit crashing through the barrier to avoid a head-on collision.

As the tunnel opened up, you watched as Bucky grabbed the handlebar of an oncoming motorcycle, spinning it around. The rider was thrown off as Bucky straddled the bike in midair, taking off again as it landed.

“Dear Christ, he just had to grab the fucking motorcycle,” you said exasperatedly.

“He’s gonna kill someone if he’s not careful,” Steve said, slightly annoyed.

“OH REALLY!?” You turned to face him as Steve followed Bucky into a lane where they wouldn’t be driving into oncoming traffic. “That’s rich coming from Captain Steven ‘My middle name is Reckless’ Rogers who literally threw enemy agents off the original Helicarrier before the Battle of New York.”

“I did not!” Steve said incredulously.

“I’ve seen the footage!” you retorted.

Entering another tunnel, you and Steve followed Bucky. You knew Bucky would try to head out of the city. The sound of a thud on the roof of the car drew your attention upwards. It appeared as though your tag-along had not been shaken off in all your crashing through barriers and swerving in and out of traffic.

The man jumped off the hood of the SUV toward Bucky. You gasped as Bucky reached behind him and caught him by the throat. The pursuer used his weight to lean the motorcycle far to the left side, causing Bucky to lose his grip. His metal arm hit the pavement with a shower of sparks as he struggled to keep the bike from crashing. Using the sudden movement to his advantage, Bucky kicked away his assailant, righting the motorcycle. Steve swerved to miss him.

For the moment, it seemed as if you were home free. You heard the whine of thrusters behind you. Steve looked in the rearview mirror, distracted by the sound. You watched as Bucky tossed one of the grenades he had taken from the Triskelion onto the opening of the underpass. He must not have realized that you and Steve were behind him and not the police.

“STEVE!” you shouted as the grenade exploded, sending a shower of concrete and steel raining down onto the road below.

“SHIT!” Steve yelled, swerving the SUV to the right, flinging open his door. He grabbed you by the waist and ran out of the car through the falling debris. The car rolled over and over behind you as Steve ran toward Bucky and the mysterious cat man both who were sprawled out on the road, having crashed the bike. Steve let go of you as he dove for the man. You tucked and rolled to a stop as Steve caught the man midair throwing him away from Bucky.

You scrambled to your feet, running towards Bucky as he stood up. “James!” you called. Bucky turned toward you, his eyes wide as you collided with him. “Are you hurt?!” you gasped, your chest heaving as the adrenaline coursed through your body. You looked him up and down, checking for injuries.

Bucky shook his head, pushing your hair out of your face. “You?”

You gestured to your lip, “Slight bruising.” Bucky gave a breath of a laugh through his nose. “You just had to go for the bike didn’t you?”

“Well, doll, you know bikes are-”

“Yeah, I know. I know.”

Sirens sounded from all sides. Flashing blue lights surrounded you. The familiar thrum of a helicopter came from above. You looked around frantically for an escape route. Steve held his arm out to still your movements. You were surrounded on all sides; there was no escape this time.

The roar of thrusters sounded from above as a gray metal man landed in front of you with a metallic thud. Colonel James Rhodes, War Machine, stood up raising both hands aiming his palm repulsors towards both parties. “STAND DOWN NOW!” A Mini-Gun appeared over his shoulder.

You stepped in front of Bucky protectively. Instinctively, your right hand grazed over the gun strapped to your thigh. Bucky grabbed your hand off the gun and pulled you closer to him. His warm fingers intertwined with your own, a silent warning to not engage.

Dozens of German Special Forces’ GSG-9 agents dressed in tactical gear and hoods aimed their weapons at the four of you. More appeared as their cars pulled up to the scene. Steve returned his shield to his back, raising his hands.

“Congratulations, Cap,” Rhodey said. “You’re a criminal.”

With that, GSG-9 agents moved in. They forced you and Bucky apart. You made a move to fight them off, but Bucky shook his head. “Don’t,” he said lowly. They forced him to his knees and then flat on the ground, removing his go-bag from his shoulders before cuffing his hands behind his back. Agents moved in behind you and Steve, cuffing your hands behind your back after removing the broken ones from your wrists.

The mysterious man in the bulletproof catsuit raised his hands, retracting his claws. You watched as he removed his helmet, revealing a handsome, bearded African man. You glanced at Steve who cocked his head curiously.

“Your highness,” addressed Rhodey, as GSG-9 agents hesitantly moved to detain him.

You looked back to the man; you recognized him now. Prince T’Challa had appeared alongside his father, King T’Chaka, during several of the press conferences addressing the loss of 11 Wakandans during the Lagos Incident last month while calling upon the United Nations for immediate action. But, why was he here now?

Once Bucky was properly restrained, they hauled him up and dragged him away to a large gray armored truck reminiscent of a Humvee. He cast a final sad look to you over his shoulder before they pushed him into the back of the truck. Your jaw clenched; if you had only left when Bucky said and not asked questions, you wouldn’t be in this mess. Then again, with the whole world searching for Bucky Barnes, where could you go that was safe?

The agents led you, Steve, Sam, and T’Challa toward a 15 passenger van modified for prisoner transport. Rhodey deactivated his helmet, revealing his face as he strode over to the four of you. He shook his head in disappointment. “Steve, Sam, what were you thinking, pulling a stunt like this?”

“The orders were to shoot on sight.” Steve said matter of factly, “I couldn’t let that happen.” Sam nodded in agreement.

Rhodey sighed and turned to you, “Who’s this?”

“Former S.H.I.E.L.D. intelligence analyst, Y/N L/N,” you said, your voice was steely.

Rhodey cocked an eyebrow and looked at Steve and Sam, “Did you rope her into this?”

“I-” Steve started.

“No,” you interrupted sternly. “Rogers and Wilson didn’t rope me into anything.”

“Then what is a former S.H.I.E.L.D. analyst doing in Bucharest with The Winter Soldier?” Rhodey asked.

“His name is Bucky, Colonel,” you asserted, narrowing your eyes. A slight smile spread across Steve’s lips. “And, I’m not going to answer any questions until we get where we are going, because I suspect that you are not the one in charge here. You’re just the ‘go-for’.”

Sam snorted, trying to suppress a laugh. Steve gave you a look, a look that he had probably given Bucky plenty of times in the 40s when he decided to mouth off. He sighed.

Rhodey huffed, nodding his head. He addressed the surrounding GSG-9 agents, “See to it that their gear and weapons are collected before they board the plane to Berlin.” He stalked off toward the truck which held Bucky.

The four of you were placed in the van. You were seated next to Sam. He nodded to you, “I don’t believe we have been properly introduced, I’m Sam Wilson.”

You smiled, giving him a chin up gesture. “Y/N. Nice to meet you, Sam.” The van rumbled to life following the armored truck toward the airport.

“How did you get mixed up in all this?” Steve asked, turning his head to look at you.

You chuckled. “It’s a long story, Specimen.” Sam chortled. “One I would rather not go into given our present company.” You nodded toward T’Challa who sat near the front, his gaze fixed straight ahead.

Steve nodded, “Fair enough, sweetheart.”

The three of you lapsed into an uneasy silence. Your gaze remained fixed on the armored truck throughout the drive to the airport. This whole situation, while dire, would have been a hell of a lot better had it occurred before the Accords had been ratified. Now, there was no telling what was in store for you and Bucky. You closed your eyes with a sad sigh.

“ _I’m sorry, Sarge. I am so sorry.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> Two updates within the span of 24 hours? Yes, ma'am.
> 
> I actually had these scenes written out since the beginning of the story, which is why it didn't take me too long to update. 
> 
> But WHOOP to meeting Captain America, Falcon, War Machine and Black Panther!
> 
> I actually have a lot of the Civil War scenes already written so updates should be a tad faster depending on my work schedule. 
> 
> Please comment or leave kudos if you are enjoying the story! I would appreciate it immensely!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote from Sharon Carter's eulogy at Peggy Carter's funeral in Captain America: Civil War.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

“ **_The truth is a matter of circumstance, it’s not all things to all people all the time…”_ **

**_“That’s a tough way to live.”_ **

**_“It’s a good way not to die though.”_ **

  
  


~*~*~*~

**Joint Counter Terrorist Centre. Berlin, Germany. May 2016.**

The flight from Bucharest to Berlin was quick. Before entering the plane, your S.H.I.E.L.D. Tactical Suit was taken from you. One of the female GSG-9 agents was kind enough to let you grab your jacket out of your laptop bag so you wouldn’t be walking around in just a tank top and jeans, after it was checked thoroughly for weapons and communication devices first. You felt naked without your gun on your ankle or tucked into your waistband, after months of not going anywhere without them.

You had only caught glimpses of Bucky upon boarding and leaving the plane. They had him strapped to a chair with metal restraints across his chest and arms. The chair was in a thick glass-enclosed pod that rolled on its own, operated by remote control. The agents loaded him into another armored truck before placing you, Sam, Steve, and T’Challa into a black prisoner transport van. With a police escort, you formed a large convoy as you traveled from the airport to the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre. You dozed off halfway there, your head resting against the window. The events of the morning and three days of minimal sleep catching up with you.

You woke to T’Challa explaining the Wakandan warrior mantle of The Black Panther. “Now because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king.” So that’s why he had been after Bucky. King T’Chaka was killed in the bombing. T’Challa wanted vengeance. “So I ask you...as both warrior and king...how long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me?”

“As long as I am around, you won’t even get near him, motănel,”  _ (little tomcat), _ you stated, sitting up as you ran your hand through your hair.

The rest of the ride to the JCTC facility was silent. The convoy dipped into an underground loading bay, coming to a stop in front of a small group of people waiting by the entrance. You recognized one of them as Agent 13, Sharon Carter; she was standing next to a diminutive gray-haired man and surrounded by armed guards.

As you exited the vehicle, you caught sight of the prison pod. You moved toward it. You knew Bucky didn’t like small enclosed spaces; he told you once they reminded him of HYDRA’s cryo-freeze chamber. You wanted to check to see if he was alright. You were blocked by the agents that surrounded the pod.

“Can I please just see him?” you asked, craning your neck to look over their shoulders.

The agents were silent. They didn’t even look your way. You made an attempt to move past them. One of them shoved you backward. You moved to make another attempt, but Steve grabbed your upper arm. You looked at him, eyes narrowed. He shook his head.

“That man there is the only family we have left,” you loudly addressed the guards, gesturing to yourself and then to Steve. “Do you understand me?! You harm him in any way…and I mean in any way…I will personally make your life a living hell.”

You looked past the agents to Bucky, who was now looking at you after seeing the commotion. “Te iubesc,”  _ (I love you.)  _ you called to him.

He gave you a small sad smile, “Ştiu.”  _ (I know.) _

Steve put his hand on the small of your back, you allowed him to lead you away, toward the tense welcoming committee.

“Pretty sure threatening an international joint task force member is all kinds of illegal,” Sam said as you moved to walk beside him.

“I’m a private citizen who has been aiding and abetting an enhanced international fugitive for the past two years, what’s one more charge?” You waved your hand in the air, dismissing his concern. Sam chuckled.

Sharon introduced the four of you to the small older man as her boss, Deputy Task Force Commander, Everett Ross. He explained that Bucky would undergo a psychological evaluation before he was extradited to Wakanda.

“What about a lawyer?” Steve asked. You shook your head; you knew he wouldn’t get one, especially now that the Accords had been ratified. You looked once more toward the prison pod, catching Bucky’s eye as the freight elevator doors slid shut.

You walked with the others toward the control room, crossing a sky bridge over the Spree River that connected the east and west wings of the facility.

A petite red-head dressed in a black leather jacket approached the group. “For the record, this is what making things worse looks like,” Natasha hissed to Steve as she fell into step beside him.

“He’s alive,” Steve stated.

“How could you be so stupid? You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“Aww, would you miss me that much, Nat?” Steve smiled looking down at her.

She shook her head with a sharp laugh, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“And here I thought the most important thing was for us to stay together.”

You watched Natasha roll her eyes and mutter something under her breath before moving ahead of Steve as the group entered the control room. The walls were covered with screens. Dozens of people milled about. You watched as Tony Stark stepped down from a glass enclosed conference room located in the center of the room. He was dressed in an immaculate suit with his cuffs unbuttoned and his tie loosened in a devil-may-care kind of way.

“Consequences? You bet there'll be consequences.” Tony said confidently into his cell phone. “Obviously you can quote me on that 'cause I just said it. Anything else? Thank you, sir.” He hung up the phone as he approached you, Sam, and Steve. “Secretary Ross wants you both prosecuted.” He pointed to Sam and Steve. His eyes then focused on you, looking you up and down with a smirk. “This the Patty Hurst wannabe?”

“Oh, that’s mature, Tin Man,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Tony chuckled slightly. “Gonna have to come up with something more original than that to hurt my feelings, dear.”

“Really? Huh...I thought it was appropriate; considering you supposedly don’t have a heart.” You tilted your head to the side.

Tony brought his hand to his chest in mock horror, and looked at Steve, “You didn’t tell me she bites.” You rolled your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had never met Tony Stark in person, but it seemed the gossips were right about his overall attitude.

Tony gestured to the glass conference room. “Do everyone a favor; wait in there until someone comes to get you.” The three of you moved toward the room. Tony held up his hand to stop you. “Not you, kitten, we have some questions you need to answer for us real quick.”

You looked back at Steve and Sam. Steve nodded. Sam gave you a small smile, “We’ll see you in a few.” You turned and followed Tony to an empty office off of the control room.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


You sat alone in the small office, elbows propped on the small table, cradling your head in your hands.

_ How are you going to get yourself out of this one, Y/N? _

Worst case scenario, the CIA would pin the bombing on both you and Bucky, meaning you would both be transported to Wakanda once they were through evaluating you. You knew Bucky would be imprisoned for the foreseeable future with little to no chance of release. You weren’t quite sure if anyone caught aiding and abetting an unregistered enhanced person fell under the jurisdiction of the Accords. If you didn’t, you could find a lawyer through Trish or Jessica. Given both their lines of work, they had multiple connections to some of the most high-powered attorneys. But at this point, your fate was uncertain.

You couldn’t shake the feeling this whole incident had been orchestrated by someone in some way. You twirled the bracelet on your wrist. You and Bucky were always so careful; you had done everything right with covering your tracks. You hadn't encountered anyone hostile since that night in Brooklyn. Even though you had no idea where Bucky had been the past few days, you knew he wouldn’t have done what they were accusing him of. There was nothing to be gained from doing so and everything to lose.

The door to the office opened and Sharon and Natasha walked inside. A thin file in both of their hands.

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” greeted Sharon as she sat in front of you. Natasha stood off to the side, arms crossed.

“Sharon,” you nodded a greeting. “Working for the CIA now? Didn’t all the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents used to make fun of the ‘the bumbling idiots from Langley’ who didn’t know their heads from their assholes?”

Sharon gave you a tight smile, gesturing to Natasha, “You know Natasha Romanoff.”

“Of course, everyone knows of the infamous Black Widow.” You turned to Natasha. “Thanks for releasing those files by the way. They’ve come in handy.”

“State your full name for the record, please,” Sharon asked.

You sat back in your chair, crossing your arms. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“It would be in your best interest to cooperate,” Natasha said.

“Oh, I plan on cooperating. Doesn’t mean I can’t be snippy or ask questions along the way.”

Sharon and Natasha stared at you silently.

“Y/N M/N L/N,” you relented.

“Aliases?” Sharon asked, looking up from her file.

“None.”

“Really?” Natasha said, tossing your and Bucky’s European and American passports on the table. “Which names were you and Barnes going by in Romania? Ana and Sergei? Or Leia and Harrison?”

You clicked your tongue. “Ya know what, Romanoff? Some people consider it rude to snoop through other people’s shit.”

“These passports and IDs are pretty convincing, almost perfect.” Natasha said, picking one up and flipping through it, “Where did you get them?”

You didn’t take the bait. “I don’t see how that information has any bearing on the conversation we  _ should _ be having at the moment.”

“You were an intelligence analyst for S.H.I.E.L.D. formerly?” Sharon asked, flipping through her papers.

“That’s correct. Level 7 Clearance I believe.”

Natasha scoffed.

You smirked; she had only achieved a Level 6 security clearance. Seeing as Clint gave you intel to analyze, it made sense for both of you to be at the same security clearance level. Not to mention, when S.H.I.E.L.D. discovered the data analysis program you had developed in your spare time, they adopted it as their gold standard. “I’m good at what I do.”

“Apparently too good,” she flipped through her own file, “former black hat hacker, using the tag QUN87CHF23YJ4?” She spelled out the hacker tag.

“It’s pronounced Queen Bitch Freyja and technically I still am a hacker, old habits die hard. I just hung up the black hat. I had to if I was going to work for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“And how did you meet Barnes?”

“Happenstance.”

“How do we know you aren’t with HYDRA?”

You grit your teeth and huffed. “Well for starters, one of their goons murdered my best friend right in front of me during the Attack on the Triskelion. I then shot said goon in the head at point blank range. Also, I was on their Project Insight hit list. And let’s face it, had I been with HYDRA, you would have never been able to disable Zola’s Algorithm on those Helicarriers.”

A few moments of quiet lapsed before Sharon spoke. “A few weeks after the HYDRA Uprising, all activity on your credit cards, bank cards, and your cellphone ceased, and your apartment was discovered to be empty when your friend Ben called the police to conduct a welfare check. No one has seen you since April 2014. Why don’t you tell us where you have been for the past two years.” She folded her arms in front of her on the table.

“Various places,” you answered vaguely.

“You were with Barnes the whole time?”

“Yes.”

“How did you get around? Did anyone help you?” asked Natasha.

“We had our sources.”

“Who were?” Sharon prodded.

“I would prefer to leave them out of this.” You weren’t about to give up Clint, Trish and Jessica, not after all the risks they had taken.

“You should recon-” Natasha started.

You cut her off. “They don’t know any more information regarding Bucky or our movements for the past two years.” You shook your head, “So, yeah, no, you’re not going to get their names from me.”

“Fine,” Sharon said tightly. “What were Barnes’ whereabouts for the past 48 hours?”

“He was with me. We didn’t know anything about the bombing in Vienna until he went to the market this morning,” you lied easily.

“Don’t cover for him,” Natasha said.

“He was with me,” you affirmed; you narrowed your eyes. “I can tell you all about our ‘romantic interludes’ if you like.”

Sharon rolled her eyes, “Our sources say otherwise.” She slid the picture you had seen in the Bucharest newspaper earlier that morning across the table.

“Your ‘sources’?” you scoffed, pointing to the photo. “You mean this shitty ass security footage? Seriously?! Please tell me this isn’t all of the evidence you have?”

Sharon and Natasha were silent.

“WOW!” you exclaimed with a sharp laugh. “Okay, full stop, let’s use our fucking brains for a second and actually  _ think _ for a moment.” You leaned forward. “Why would a man who has been in hiding for the past 2 years show himself now? As an enhanced individual, he falls under The Accords, yes. But, he’s not a part of the Avengers. HYDRA is basically inactive. And, he doesn’t work for any world government. He doesn’t agree with the Accords in the slightest; he won’t sign them. And, I can tell you he would be more than happy to be ‘retired’. Which, honestly, he has been in a sense for the past two years. So what does he have to gain by bombing the peace conference?” You paused, eyeing their reactions. Their faces were unreadable.

_ Fucking spies. _

“Absolutely nothing. It risks everything. And tell me why a man, who has stayed under the radar for 71 years and knows all about how to avoid detection so much so that we used to think he was nothing but a damn ghost story, would suddenly walk past a security camera and look straight into it? Bucky is extremely cautious and always hyper-aware of his surroundings. It’s how no one has been able to find us these past two years. There is no way in hell this is him in that photo even if you don’t believe he was with me.”

Sharon and Natasha didn’t move to say anything. They stared at you in disbelief.

You threw up your hands. “Can you really not see past your own goddamn noses? Surely, as some of the best intelligence operatives in the world, you would know better than to take a blurry ass picture as your only piece of hard evidence. There has to be something bigger at play here.” You tapped your forefinger on the top of the table. “But no, your bosses just need a win so they can look good politically. Whether or not Bucky is actually innocent doesn’t fucking matter.”

“He’s hardly innocent,” Natasha scoffed.

“You’re one to talk,  _ Natalia _ .”

Natasha tensed slightly at the use of her birth name. “This isn’t about politics.”

“It has everything to do with politics. The hostility towards any and all enhanced persons has only grown over the past year since the Ultron Offensive. In order for the governments of the world to show the people that have “the situation” handled, they need the international governmental agency to catch the proverbial “enhanced bad guy” and eliminate them, raising the people’s confidence in their administrations and bolstering public support for the Accords. If you took one goddamn second to actually step back and look at the bigger picture, you would see that.”

Natasha made a move to say something else, but Sharon silenced her, “Okay, that’s enough. We aren’t getting anywhere.”

“Tell you what,” you slapped your hands on the table, “we’re done here. When you can get your heads outta your asses, call me back.” You stood up from your chair. “Do I need a babysitter to walk me back to the control room? Or can I go on my own?”

Natasha stared at you, her eyes hard. You knew you made her angry by insulting her intelligence and using her birth name. On any other day, you might have cared, but today you didn’t. Sharon sighed, closing her file. She stood up and opened the door, “Follow me.”

You brushed past Natasha on your way out. “I expect you to put those passports back where you found them,” you said before following Sharon down the hall towards the control room.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


The UN-designated psychiatrist had arrived to complete Bucky’s psychological evaluation. You sat at the end of the conference table, eyes trained on the screen above Steve’s head. The audio feed had been cut. Physically, Bucky looked unharmed. They had removed his jacket and go-bag before they locked him in the pod. You could tell he was tired. You didn’t know where he had been for the past 72 hours, but it was clear he hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep.

Sharon entered the office, handing Sam three slips of paper. “A receipt for your gear.” Sam handed you yours and Bucky’s. You quickly glanced over it making sure everything you had stuffed in your laptop bag was accounted for before bringing your eyes back to the screen.

Sharon moved over to Steve, touching his elbow to get his attention, and handed him his receipt with a shy smile. Her hand lingered on his arm a little longer than necessary. Steve nodded to her with a low thank you and then turned his attention back to the screen. Suddenly, the audio cut on; both you and Steve looked to Sharon who shrugged demurely as she met Steve’s gaze.

  
  


“ _ I’m not here to judge you...I just want to ask you a few questions...Do you know where you are, James?...I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me, James.” _

“ **_My name is Bucky. Only Y/N can call me James.”_ **

  
  


Steve turned and looked at you with one eyebrow raised. You looked down, the heat rising to your cheeks.

The evaluation continued on with the psychiatrist asking Bucky for various demographic information and performing a mental status exam. Steve paced the length of the office. You bounced your leg up and down; his pacing made you nervous. Glancing at the surveillance photo once more, Steve asked, “Why would the Task Force release this photo, to begin with?”

“Get the word out? Involve as many eyes as we can?” Sharon poised.

“Right. It’s a good way to flush a guy outta hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. You’ve got seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.”

“You’re saying someone framed him to find him.”

You threw out your arms exasperatedly, causing Sam to jump. “Un-fucking-believable! I only said the same thing in so many words to you and Natasha an hour ago! And now, the super-soldier you have heart-eyes for,” you gestured toward Steve, “says the exact same thing, and, suddenly, it’s not so crazy sounding?”

Sharon turned toward you, her cheeks slightly pink, “Yeah, but it doesn’t guarantee whoever framed him would get him. It guarantees that we would.” She paused and looked back to the screen, her eyes narrowed.

Steve, Sam, and you looked to the screen once more.

“Yeah,” Steve said lowly.

“I’ve gotta bad feeling about this,” Sam muttered.

You stood up from your chair, moving closer to Steve. “We have to get him out of there. Stop the evaluation. This has got to be a setup.” You turned to Sharon, “who is that doctor supposed to be?”

“The UN sent him; we didn’t bring him in.”

You rubbed your temples, “Did anyone think to verify his identity at all before letting him in there?”

Sharon was silent.

“Bumbling idiots,” you muttered.

No sooner were the words out of your mouth, all of the lights in the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre went out, sending the people in the control room into a panicked frenzy. All screens went dark; the visual on Bucky lost. You, Sam, and Steve looked to one another. “God, I hate being right all the time,” you said.

Steve turned to Sharon. “Sub-level 5, East Wing,” she said lowly. Without another word, you, Sam, and Steve bolted toward the sky bridge.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


You, Steve, and Sam raced down the hallways and staircases with only the flashing red emergency lighting to see by. As you made your way closer to Sub-Level 5, it got quiet, possibly meaning the floor had been evacuated or that everything was fine. You hoped this was all a coincidence and that the doctor was actually a doctor, not some impostor. However, as you rounded the corner, you were greeted by an armed guard slumped against the wall, knocked out cold.

  
  


_ Oh no. _

  
  


You followed Steve and Sam into a room opposite the elevator. The security doors were unlocked and frozen in the open position. Dozens of guards and staff members lay on the floor. You hoped they were all knocked out and not dead. Sam bent down to check one’s pulse.

“Help me! Help!” you heard a voice whimper from inside the cell. It was the doctor. He lay on the floor in the fetal position, covering his head. You and Steve made a beeline for him.

“Get up!” Steve said angrily, grabbing the man by the shirt collar and throwing him against the wall. “Who are you? What do you want?”

A beat of silence passed. You looked toward the prison pod. Your eyes widened. It was empty; the door had been smashed open. Your gaze fell on the table to a thin red leather book with a black star on the front.

  
  


_ Where the fuck did he find that? _

  
  


You recognized it from the Winter Soldier files; the Russian handler would read out of it as they wiped Bucky before sending him on a mission.

  
  


_ Shit. Shit. Shit. _

  
  


The doctor had used the words to trigger HYDRA’s Winter Soldier programming.

“To see an empire fall,” the man said, looking over Steve’s shoulder to Sam as he entered the room. You noticed Bucky before anyone else. “SAM, WATCH OUT!”

Sam narrowly avoided the Winter Soldier’s punch and attempted to fight back. The Soldier overpowered him easily, grabbing him by the chin and throwing him against the prison pod. He started toward you. Steve dropped his hold on the doctor, engaging The Soldier in a fistfight which drove them back toward the main hallway.

You set your sights on the doctor, who was paying no attention to you. You grabbed his jacket lapel and punched him square in the nose slamming him back against the wall. “You fucking bastard!” you cried. He lunged for you; you grabbed his arm holding it over your head and punched him several times in the diaphragm. He lowered his shoulders to bowl you over. You grabbed his neck with both arms and forced his head down, ramming your knee into this face over and over again. “Do you have any idea what you have done?!” The doctor caught your leg and threw you backward, smashing you into the table. It crashed to the ground. The wind was knocked out of you. You struggled to breathe, fumbling for the Winter Soldier book. It needed to be destroyed. “You must be, Y/N,” the doctor cooed. He stood over you for a moment, before plucking the book from your hands. You kicked out trying to hook your foot behind his to bring him down. He sidestepped your attempts and kicked you hard in the ribs. You fought the urge to vomit from the pain. “’Til we meet again,” he backed out of the cell. You rolled over with a groan; Sam sat up shaking his head, looking toward the elevator. “Hey!” he shouted.

“Sam!” you croaked, “Follow him!” He moved toward you; you waved him away “No, no, I’ll be fine. We can’t let him leave the building.” Sam nodded and rushed down the hallway after the doctor. You slowly rose to your feet, doubling over in pain.

You took deep breaths as you made your way toward the elevator. A giant hole had been punched through the doors. You looked down the shaft. “Ah shit.” Steve lay at the bottom about 25 feet down. “STEVE!” you shouted. He moved slightly and then pushed himself to his feet, discarding his jacket. He winced in pain. “Can you make it back up?” you asked.

He looked up at you after scanning his surroundings. “Yeah, there are some cables along the wall I can use.” He grabbed onto one and climbed up the shaft. You offered him your hand and helped pull him through the hole in the elevator doors.

Steve bent over to catch his breath. You had one hand wrapped around your abdomen. Everything hurt. You were surely going to have some bruised ribs, if not some broken ones. Both of you quickly made your way down the hall and up the stairs.

“Where did he go?” he panted.

“Follow the screams,” you deadpanned.

“What happened?”

“The doctor, or whoever he is, activated HYDRA’s Winter Soldier programming, using the trigger words.”

“Trigger words?”

“It’s like a form of conditioning. Ten specific Russian words said in a certain order activates it. That’s how HYDRA was able to control him, along with erasing his memories before and after every mission.”

“My god.”

“The doctor had HYDRA’s manual which details how to control The Winter Soldier. No idea how he got his hands on it, but it is the same one I remember from the files I datamined.”

Screams and gunshots echoed down the staircase. You and Steve quickly ran up the last few flights and threw the lobby door open. The lobby’s cafe was trashed. Tables and chairs were shattered. Food was scattered everywhere. Several bodies lied on the ground, including those of Sharon and Tony. You checked Tony’s pulse; he was still alive just knocked out. Sharon moved slightly with a moan before falling silent once more.

Natasha sat on a table. Her hand at her throat; red marks burned brightly against her pale skin. Steve ran to her, grabbing her shoulders. “Where did he go, Nat?” She looked at him then to you. “Nat, please,” Steve pleaded. She looked back at him once more.

“The roof,” she said hoarsely. “There’s a helicopter up there.”

Steve nodded and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

“Come on!” he gestured to you as he ran toward the staircase.

“You go! I’ll only slow you down. I’ll find Sam. He was going after the doctor.” You made your way toward the exit. He nodded and dashed up the stairs. You looked to Natasha one more time. She made no move to follow you.

“Go,” she whispered, gesturing to Tony and Sharon who were slowly waking up. You nodded and ran through the exit doors.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


You caught up with Sam at the end of the bridge over the Spree River. It was deserted. Most everyone had been evacuated or fled in the panic. “I lost him,” Sam said, handing you the doctor’s discarded jacket.

You searched the pockets for any form of identification and found nothing. “Goddamnit,” you muttered, dropping the jacket.

The whir of helicopter blades erupted nearby. You and Sam looked toward the roof of the facility. A chopper only made it about 10 feet of the helipad before a figure jumped up and grabbed the landing struts, bringing it back down.

“Jesus, Cap,” Sam muttered.

Steve was dragged toward the edge of the building, still holding onto the strut. He grabbed the edge of the platform and pulled it back toward him, almost stalling the helicopter. Suddenly, it banked sharply toward Steve, crashing into the platform. You gasped, grabbing Sam’s arm. The chopper was still for a moment before it teetered off the edge and plunged into the river below, dragging Steve with it.

You and Sam scrambled off the bridge and down to the river bank. The bubbles from the escaping air dissipated as you waited for anyone to surface. You held your breath; your heart pounded in your ears.

“Come on now,” Sam encouraged, searching the water.

A few more moments passed before Steve broke the surface of the river a few feet from the bridge with Bucky in his arms. You let out the breath you had been holding with a smile.

Sam moved to help both men out of the river. Steve tossed Bucky up on the bank before using Sam’s offered hand to pull himself up. You knelt by Bucky to examine him. He was breathing but knocked out cold. He had a gash on the side of his head not far from the scar you had given him when you hit him with that frying pan over a year ago. You let out a small laugh as your fingers traced his brow bone. You stood up and gave Steve a once over. “You alright?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, shaking out his hair.

“We need to get going,” Sam said, looking around. “They are probably in the process of setting up a perimeter by now.”

Steve nodded and stooped down to pick Bucky up, throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Then let’s get going.” The four of you made your way along the bank of the river, doing your best to stay out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> Yes, we are going the Romanogers route, because Sharon and Steve is just gross. 
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger!
> 
> Beginning Quote: an exchange between Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers in Captain America: The Winter Soldier


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

“ **_We’re not equal parts_ **

**_Light and dark_ **

**_We can be brilliant”_ **

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Abandoned warehouse. Berlin, Germany. May 2016.**

Several blocks away from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre, you, Steve, and Sam hid in an abandoned dilapidated warehouse. You were certain Bucky wouldn’t be The Winter Soldier when he finally came around, but Steve insisted on restraining him out of an abundance of caution. Sam and Steve sat him on top of a crate next to a large old industrial vice which Steve clamped down on Bucky’s metal arm.

You and Sam kept an eye on Bucky while Steve did a security sweep. “So you’re a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?” asked Sam, “You fight like one.” He leaned against a metal door frame.

You shook your head. “Not an agent, an analyst. And formerly.” you gathered your hair in a ponytail. “Kinda lost my job when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell.”

“Ah, guess that’s partially our fault,” Sam chuckled.

“Nah,” you folded your arms across your chest and looked over at Bucky. “If I blame anyone, it’s HYDRA,” you looked back to Sam. “Is it true that HYDRA is completely gone?”

“With an organization like HYDRA, you can never know,” he shrugged. “We eliminated Rumlow and some mercenaries in Lagos last month when they tried to steal a biochemical weapon. Well, technically, he blew himself up.” This was news to you. You couldn’t deny that one of Bucky’s tormentors being blown to pieces brought you a little bit of peace. Sam continued, “So, I’m sure the immediate threat of them is gone, but who is to say that they won’t resurface somewhere down the road.”

You nodded, “I suppose that’s true.” You sighed, “So what’s it like being an Avenger, Falcon?”

Sam looked down with a smile, “It’s interesting.” He gestured to your surroundings. “Never a dull moment.” His smile faltered, “Although, after the establishment of the Accords, I guess I'm going to have to find a different day job.”

You smiled sadly. Steve approached you and Sam. “We’re clear for now,” he said. “There are some helicopters doing surveillance flights, so we will need to be mindful of that when we move on.” Steve looked over at Bucky. “He’ll probably be out for a while; he hit his head pretty hard.” You and Sam nodded. A few moments of silence passed before Steve spoke again, “Y/N, can I talk to you?”

You nodded, “Sure.” You followed him over to a few windows by a garage door. Steve looked out at a passing helicopter, before turning to you. “I heard about Peggy’s passing,” you said. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. I always admired her. My late grandfather and Bucky told me lots of great stories about her; she seemed like someone I would have loved to be friends with.”

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Thank you.” He gave you a sad smile, “She would have liked you.”

You nodded your head once with a small smile.

“So you and Buck?” Steve asked.

“Yeah?” you replied.

“How long?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest, “I found him in the alleyway behind a jazz club in DC after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. Quite literally a few days after he pulled you out of the Potomac. He looked so lost, so scared, so confused…” You looked out the window. “Of course, I knew who he was…the metal arm is hard to mistake.” You smiled slightly at the memory. “I offered to take him to my apartment, patch him up, and help him in whatever capacity he would let me. Possibly not the smartest idea I have ever had but...” you chuckled, scratching the back of your neck. “Of course, we kinda got stuck with one another after HYDRA found us and chased us out of the country, but being stuck with him is not so bad.” You shrugged, turning your back to lean against the wall.

Steve nodded, “And how long have you been together?”

You opened your mouth slightly in surprise but closed it quickly. You fiddled with the zipper on your jacket, “Is it that obvious?”

“I can remember only four people who were allowed to call Bucky by his first name, and those were his mother and his sisters. I wasn’t even allowed to call him that, nor were any of the girls he dated.” He turned and smiled at you, “You must be pretty special to him if he lets you use it.”

You looked down, the tips of your ears grew warm. “Well...officially? Uh...maybe...maybe about a month before the whole Ultron debacle. So a little over a year?”

“Ah…” Steve said knowingly; he paused for a moment, mulling over his next question. “Do you love him?”

You took a deep breath through your nose before looking Steve in the eye. “Yeah, yeah, I do...I think we both knew we were in love with one another before we actually said it out loud.” You shook your head, “His state was so fragile for so long. I was just as damaged,” you pointed to yourself. “Constantly shoving down my emotions, not dealing with my own grief, my own trauma.” You paused for a moment, “We both didn’t want to ruin the relationship we already had...at least for a while...He told me first though.”

“Did he now?”

You smiled, “Yes, he did. He thought I was asleep...Why are you asking me all this?”

Steve looked out the window once more, “History tells you that they found me in the ice, but what it doesn’t tell you is that I survived that crash long enough to find somewhere to lie down and die.” He looked back to you, “When I woke up, I felt so much shame, so much guilt. If I could survive crashing that HYDRA bomber and then 67 years frozen in ice, I thought to myself maybe…” He sighed, shaking his head, “maybe I could have survived jumping off that damn train after my brother...maybe I could have saved him. Instead, I just hung there clinging to the train for dear life because I was just too damn scared.”

“What happened to Bucky wasn’t your fault,” you said, shaking your head. “He made the choice to save you, to protect you, to follow you...and he knew that may mean he would die doing so.”

Steve nodded. “When I discovered The Winter Soldier’s true identity, I made it my number one priority to make sure Bucky was saved this time around. I owed him that. I failed him once. I was not about to do that again…” His voice trailed off. “Anyway, you know the rest…I must say you did a decent job at hiding yourselves.”

“Honestly, it probably would have stayed that way if not for all of this…” you sighed, gesturing to the helicopter outside. “But, I am sure Bucky would have sought you out when he felt the time was right. He has tried so hard to put his life back together. To reclaim his identity.” You frowned, “HYDRA erased his memories, but they left behind everything else that makes him who he is, his loyalty, his protective nature, his skills. They then warped those qualities for their benefit.” You looked to the floor, twirling Hunter’s bracelet around your wrist. “Because of them, he’s not the same man he once was, and he knows it. He hates them for what they did, but he hates himself more for doing the things they made him do. It’s been difficult at times...and I have a feeling that there is still more to do.”

A beat of silence passed between you two, only interrupted by the distant whirring of helicopter blades.

“Truth is. I’m slightly jealous of you.”

You looked up, raising an eyebrow, “Why?”

Steve smiled sadly, “You have had all this time with him. You’ve helped him. You saved him. And I would be lying if I didn’t say, I wish that it could have been me.”

You shook your head, “But you did save him. He remembered you, even through a mind wipe. Seeing you triggered him to come back.” You placed your hand on Steve’s arm. “He was so angry with himself for a long time. He couldn’t bear to disappoint you with what he had become. That’s why he ran from you.” Steve nodded once in understanding.

“Hey Cap!” Sam called.

You and Steve jogged over to Sam, stopping in the middle of the doorway. Bucky stirred. He groaned and brought his hand to his head, wincing as his fingers brushed the gash. He looked up, noticing you, Steve, and Sam for the first time. His eyes were clear and present; there was no trace of The Winter Soldier.

“Y/N...” he croaked, shifting his position on the crate.

You ran to him before Steve could hold you back and knelt on the ground in front of him. You placed your hands on his knees; “James…” you said softly.

Bucky brought his forehead to rest against yours. He breathed you in. His free hand moved to cradle the back of your neck, his thumb traced circles on your skin. You closed your eyes, finding comfort in the closeness. He had been distant these past few months, emotionally as well as physically. His touch relaxed you in a way nothing else could.

“Are you alright?” he whispered after a few moments.

You pulled back to look him in the eye, brushing the hair out of his eyes with a slight smile, “Always. You?”

Bucky nodded, looking past you to Steve. “Steve…”

Steve took a slight step forward. “Which Bucky am I talking to?”

“Your mom’s name was Sarah...You used to wear newspapers in your shoes,” he chuckled lowly. A small smile danced across his lips.

Steve smiled; the tension left his shoulders, “Can’t read that in a museum.”

Sam scoffed, “Just like that we’re supposed to be cool?” He clearly had not forgotten about the beating The Winter Soldier had given him earlier. He crossed his arms across his chest. “Are we going to talk about what just happened?”

Bucky’s eyes widened; he looked back to you. “Oh god...I...how...how many?”

“Shhh...” you rubbed his arm, “don’t...don’t do that...”

Bucky looked to Steve for an answer.

“Enough...” Steve sighed.

Bucky nodded solemnly. “How did you get me out of it?”

“Cognitive recalibration,” you said, trying to make your voice as light as possible. “Like that time before at the chalet.”

Sam raised his hand, “Hold up. Time before?”

“Yeah, it’s happened once before,” you replied.

Steve was taken aback, “I’m sorry, but how are-”

“How am I still alive?” you said, smiling at him. He nodded meekly. You chuckled. “It’s okay...I’m light on my feet and quick thinking.”

Bucky gave a short laugh that bubbled up through his nose. “And you just happened to be in the kitchen next to a frying pan.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in alarm, “You hit him in the head with a frying pan?!”

“A cast-iron frying pan,” Bucky added with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Your heart soared; it had been a while since you had seen that smile.

Sam pointed at you and then looked at Steve, “Oh, I like her.”

You nodded, “That bitch Rapunzel got one hella backswing.” Bucky chuckled, nodding.

Steve, still not over the shock at the idea of you smashing Bucky over the head with a cast-iron skillet, asked, “But, how did he get triggered if you didn’t have the manual the doctor had?” Sam raised an eyebrow, confused. He hadn’t been present for your initial explanation to Steve.

You took Bucky’s hand in yours. “One day, I was watching some video files of briefings regarding various Winter Soldier missions. I always did that just to make sure the clips wouldn’t trigger any of Bucky’s anxiety or panic attacks. The videos all began in the same manner. After waking him from cryo, HYDRA would wipe him and then say 10 specific words in Russian...” you looked down. You and Bucky laughed about the incident now, but you were still ashamed that you had been so careless. You hadn’t fully forgiven yourself. “I was listening without my headphones; I didn’t hear him come in.”

“It wasn’t your fault, doll,” Bucky said squeezing your hand.

You squeezed back, catching his eye, “Always the gentleman, Sarge.”

Sam looked confused, “Wait, how did you get access to those files?”

“Internet. Courtesy of Specimen’s spider assassin girlfriend about two years ago.” Steve’s cheeks went slightly pink. Sam gave him a knowing look. “Most of the S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA files she dumped were still encrypted, but nothing my decryption and data analysis programs couldn’t handle.”

Steve and Sam exchanged confused looks.

“She’s a hacker,” Bucky clarified.

“How do you kn-” Steve started.

“Fucking A!” Sam said, with a huge smile.

Steve sighed, his face turning serious, “The bombing. The setup. The doctor did all of that just to get ten minutes with you. Who was he?” His question was directed at Bucky.

“I don’t know,” Bucky replied. “I didn’t recognize him from my time with HYDRA.”

“What did he want to know?”

Bucky was silent for a moment, trying to remember, “He wanted to know about Siberia...Where I was kept...He wanted to know exactly where.”

“Why would he need to know that?”

Bucky sighed, “Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier.”

Your eyes snapped to Bucky’s face. You hadn’t come across that piece of information in any of the files you had analyzed over the past two years. His expression was pained. “Sarge?” Bucky shifted position, growing uncomfortable with the scrutiny and the restriction of his arm, still trapped in the vice. You looked to Steve, “Can we get him out of this now?”

Steve nodded and released him from the vice. Bucky moved his arm around, making sure none of the metal joints had frozen up. You grabbed a stool with a ripped seat and pulled it up next to Bucky. “How did they make more of them?” you asked.

Bucky leaned forward with his elbows on his knees; he looked at the floor. “At the end of 1991, I was sent to obtain Howard Stark’s version of Erskine’s super-soldier serum, one that didn’t require the use of Vita Rays.”

You remembered a mission briefing around that time, but you had never seen the debriefing. All you knew was that he was supposed to obtain what HYDRA wanted and...leave no witnesses behind. “Oh, Sarge,” you whispered, placing your hand on his arm. Buck worked with Howard during the War as a part of the Howling Commandos. He had always remembered him fondly, having helped him develop various tools for the Commandos to use. HYDRA made him murder Howard and Maria in cold blood. Tony Stark’s parents were killed by The Winter Soldier. You looked at Steve; he nodded knowingly, confirming your thinking.

  
  


“ _If Steve knows, does Tony know?”_

  
  


Bucky continued without looking up, “HYDRA used the serum to create five more soldiers. But, it didn’t go as planned. They rebelled. HYDRA managed to subdue them and placed them all in cryo-freeze until they could find a better way to control them.”

  
  


“ _Oh, gods.”_

  
  


Steve leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. “Who were they?” he asked.

“Their most elite death squad,” Bucky answered. “More kills than anyone in HYDRA history and that was before the serum.”

Sam ran his hand over his face with a sigh, “They all turn out like you?”

Bucky shot Sam a dirty look, “Worse.”

You stood from your stool and began to pace, alternating chewing on your cuticles and twirling your bracelet around your wrist. “Could the doctor maintain control over them though if he were to wake them up?” you asked.

Bucky wrung his hands, “Enough.”

Steve stepped forward, closer to you and Bucky, “He said he wanted to see an empire fall.”

Your brow furrowed as you continued to pace.

  
  


“ _The hell does that even mean? What empire? A country? An organization? A company? A family?”_

  
  


“With these guys, he could do it.” Bucky said, “They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night and you’d never see them coming.”

Sam stepped forward, “This would have been a hell of a lot easier a week ago.”

“Five of them...” You shook your head in disbelief. “We can’t take them on, not now. We are outgunned and outnumbered. Not that I don’t have faith in any of your abilities,” you gestured to the three men around you, “but I don’t like our odds, especially since without our tech and weapons, Sam and I are basically sitting ducks.”

“Hey now,” Sam said, slightly offended.

You rolled your eyes and shot him a look, “You know I’m right.”

Looking down, Sam huffed a sigh but didn’t argue.

“With the Accords in effect, we are on our own,” Steve said resignedly.

Sam looked up, “Maybe not.” The three of you turned to him. “I know a guy...His name is Scott Lang; he has taken up Hank Pym’s mantle of Ant-Man.”

“If you think he’d be willing to help us,” Steve said.

Sam nodded, “I’ll make some calls.” He walked into the adjoining room, pulling a phone from his back pocket.

You looked to Bucky; you had an idea. “Should we?” you asked.

Bucky shrugged, he caught on to your thinking, “I don’t see the harm in trying. The worst thing he can say is no.”

Steve cocked his head to the side, confused. You reached into your boot, pulling out Clint’s secure line. You had managed to keep it hidden from the GSG-9 and JCTC agents. You flipped open the phone and hit speed dial, pacing back and forth along the width of the room. The phone rang a few times before Clint picked up.

“Nightingale!” Clint singsonged.

You smiled softly, “Hey, Dad.”

“Was beginning to think you forgot about me there for a minute. Haven’t heard from you in a few months.”

“No, never,” you assured, “Things have just been a little rocky.”

“All good now I hope?” he asked concernedly.

“Not exactly,” you paused, looking over to Bucky and Steve who were engaged in quiet conversation. “Look, I’m sorry...you know I wouldn’t call unless I absolutely had to.”

“Uh-huh,” he sighed. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the bombing in Vienna, would it?”

You blew out a breath, “Kinda?”

“I retire for all of five minutes and it all goes to shit,” he mumbled, pausing for a moment before continuing, “Whatcha got?”

You walked over to Steve and Bucky. “Well, I’ll let the Specimen explain.”

“Specimen?”

Steve looked at you confused. “Hawkeye,” you mouthed. He nodded. You switched over to speakerphone.

“Barton,” Steve greeted.

“Cap. What’s the word?”

“We’ve got a problem in Siberia and there is no time to bring it before the UN panel for approval. We are understaffed and need help getting there.”

Clint chuckled lowly, “Got it. Who do I need to pick up?”

“Wanda, Tony has her confined at the compound with Vision, and Scott Lang. Call Sam, he will send you the details on Lang and where to meet us.”

Clint sighed, “Gimme 24 hours.”

Steve smiled, “Thank you, Clint.”

“If it wasn’t you asking, Steve, I’d tell them they were wasting their time.”

Steve smiled.

“See you soon, Dad,” you said.

“We were supposed to go water-skiing,” Clint muttered as he hung up.

You snapped the phone shut and slid it back into your boot. Steve grinned, “I see why you like her, Buck.” He glanced at Bucky. “She’s full of surprises.”

Bucky smiled, “Keeps me on my toes.” He stood up, placing his hand on the small of your back.

“Yeah, yeah,” you chuckled. “So, what’s up with you and Agent Romanoff?” you asked Steve.

Steve shook his head, blushing once more, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Bucky’s eyebrows raised knowingly, “Ah, Natalia?” giving a nod of approval. “Good choice.”

You chuckled, “You should have seen him, Sarge; he was flirting up a storm.”

“Natasha flirts with everyone,” Steve dismissed.

“Funny, she didn’t flirt with me at all when I talked to her,” you mused. Bucky chuckled lowly, pulling you closer. You crinkled your nose, playfully pushing him away. “You smell like dirty river water.”

Bucky shook his head. “Well, we’ve got 24 hours,” he looked to Steve, “We should find somewhere to lay low.” Steve nodded.

Sam walked back into the room, “Scott’s in. Clint will pick him up in San Francisco after he grabs Wanda. We’ll meet them at the Leipzig/Halle airport this time tomorrow.”

Steve nodded, “Okay we have a plan. Now where to?”

You looked up to Bucky, “Wasn’t there an old HYDRA safehouse somewhere in Berlin?” He nodded.

“Lead the way,” Steve said.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**HYDRA Safehouse. Berlin, Germany. May 2016**

Your motley crew made it to the HYDRA safehouse without incident. The two-bedroom apartment was in much better condition than the safehouse in Bucharest. Upon arriving, you immediately went out again to buy food and a small first aid kit from a nearby drugstore using an emergency 100 Euro bill you stashed in your other boot. If two years on the run taught you anything, it was that you should always be prepared.

You went alone as Sam, Bucky and Steve would have easily been recognized. Bucky had been hesitant at first, but none of you had eaten anything all day and Bucky’s wound needed tending to. Luckily for you, the young cashier spoke English and was very willing to help the cute American tourist.

You placed the bags on the small kitchen counter, grabbing the first aid kit, two bottles of water, and two sandwiches. You tossed an energy drink to Sam who lounged on the couch. He let out a small grunt as it collided with his stomach. “Those things can kill ya, you know,” you teased.

“Or keep you alive,” he chuckled, cracking open the can. “Thanks.”

You moved toward the bedrooms, “Bucky’s in...” you pointed between the two doors.

“On your left,” Sam said, crossing the living room into the kitchen in search of actual food.

The bedroom was small. The bed took up most of the space, but at least it had its own bathroom. You heard the shower turn off. Shrugging off your jacket, you sat the food and medical supplies down on the bed. You looked down at your knuckles; they were split and bruised from your fight with the doctor. You grabbed an alcohol wipe and quickly cleaned them, hissing in pain as you did so. You took the antiseptic ointment and spread it across your cuts. Lifting your tank top to check your ribs, you spotted the beginnings of several large bruises, but it didn’t feel like any of your ribs were broken.

Bucky opened the bathroom door, steam spilled out behind him. Your lips parted; your breathing hitched. Bucky stood in front of you with nothing but a towel around his hips; the stray droplets of water highlighting the deep v-shape of his Adonis belt. Your eyes roamed up the planes of his chest and shoulders. His tan skin was slightly reddened from the temperature of the water. The muscles rippled underneath the skin of his arm as he squeezed the water from the ends of his hair with a washcloth. Your teeth grazed your bottom lip.

  
  


“ _Gods, he looks heavenly.”_

  
  


“Hey, doll,” he said, smirking as he caught you staring.

You cleared your throat and looked down at the first aid kit, quickly grabbing the supplies you needed. You beckoned him over, “Sit down; let me see that cut.”

Bucky sat on the bed with his knees parted slightly. You stood in between them, brushing his damp hair back. He had cleaned the blood away from the cut; like the last time, this cut wouldn’t need stitches. You gently spread antiseptic ointment on the gash. Bucky’s eyebrow twitched slightly; the wound was still tender.

“I feel like we’ve done this before,” you said, a hint of mirth in your voice as you capped the ointment.

“On more than one occasion, unfortunately,” he said with a slight smile. His hands found their way to your waist, slightly raising your tank top to gently caress the skin underneath. The familiar buzz of electricity made its way up your spine. Involuntarily, you stepped closer to him, threading your fingers into his hair at the base of his neck, curling it around your fingers. His arms wrapped around you, drawing you even closer to him. He rested his head against your chest, allowing your heartbeat and the movement of your hands to drive the tension away from his body. “I’m sorry,” he said lowly after a few moments. “I shouldn’t have left you like that.”

“I shouldn’t have let you leave,” you sighed. “Where were you for the past few days?”

“Everywhere and nowhere. I just kinda wandered around. I found a World War II memorial to American soldiers in a park, so I spent a lot of time there just thinking.”

“Ah,” you hummed.

Bucky pulled back to look at you. “What I said about you using me to run away from your problems was out of line. And throwing Hunter in your face wasn’t fair either. I just...I was angry at myself and my past, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

You brushed his hair behind his ears. “I can understand your anger and frustration. You have every right to be; I would be too.” You traced the contour of his cheek; his stubble grazing your fingertips. “I’m here for you to talk to whenever you need me. You don’t have to shut me out. I don’t judge people on their worst mistakes...you especially.”

He nodded resting his head on your chest once more. You continued to twirl your fingers in his hair. Your breathing soon synced with his. A few minutes passed. You felt a lump in your throat form. There was something you wanted to ask, however, you didn’t want to push him any further away. But, if you didn’t ask it now, you felt you may never know. “When you said what was between us wasn’t love...did...” you swallowed hard, “did you...” Your voice was brittle, you couldn’t finish the sentence.

Bucky pulled back, his arms dropped from your waist. You closed your eyes, dragging in a heavy breath. The sudden lack of contact was jarring. He slowly stood up. You took a slight step back to let him move past you, looking down. You were afraid if you watched him walk away again, the floodgates would open and you would never stop crying. However, he moved closer to you. His hands lightly moved up your arms to gently cup your face. He lifted it to meet his gaze. His steel-blue eyes were soft and contrite. His thumb dragged along your cheekbone. He shook his head slightly. “No, no, I didn’t mean it.”

Closing your eyes, you let go of a shaky breath. Biting your lip, you nodded. His fingers delicately grazed your neck as he held your face in his hands. You met his gaze once again; he smiled. His metal thumb traced the outline of your cupid's bow then down to your bottom lip, parting your lips as he did so. Your breathing hitched as he pulled you in, his tongue easily moving past your parted lips as he kissed you deeply. His mouth moved slowly, passionately against your own. His stubble scratched your face lightly. Your hands snaked into his hair once more as you pushed your body flush with his, rising on your tiptoes to reach him. A soft sigh escaped his lips as you tugged lightly on his hair drawing him in. You smiled against his lips. Your noses bumped gently against one another as your tongues battled for dominance.

You pulled away slightly, needing to catch your breath. Bucky rested his forehead against your own. “Ești dragostea vieții mele,” he whispered, with a smile. _(You are the love of my life.)_

“Inima mea îți aparține,” you smiled back. _(My heart is yours.)_ You tucked your face in the crook of his neck, reveling in the warmth of his body. He smelled like home. He hugged you tightly, burying his nose in your hair.

You both stayed this way for a while until the pain in your ribs became too difficult to ignore. You pulled away and winced, grabbing at your side. Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What happened?”

“The doctor and I got into it. I let my emotions get the best of me; he got the upper hand. Then the bastard kicked me while I was down.” You lifted your shirt to show him the marks blossoming across your rib cage. “I should’ve known he wouldn’t fight fair. I managed to get in a few good hits beforehand though,” you gestured to your hand.

Bucky’s jaw ticked in anger as he gently prodded the bruises on your side, “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Yeah? Get in line,” You chuckled slightly, lowering your shirt. You took his hand. “I’m not sure if you know, but Peggy Carter died a few days ago. Her funeral was yesterday before Steve showed up in Bucharest.”

Bucky bowed his head and frowned, “Oh damn, I can’t imagine how he must be feeling.”

You nodded, “I can’t either. It may help to have his best friend to talk to though.”

Bucky nodded and moved to the lone dresser against the wall. Searching through the drawers, he managed to find an old t-shirt and some sweatpants. He pulled them on while you grabbed his clothes from the bathroom and set them in the late afternoon sunlight pouring in from the window. You handed him a sandwich and a bottle of water with a quick kiss. “I’ll be out in a bit, I’m going to shower.”

“Sure you don’t want me to join ya, doll?” he raised an eyebrow.

You rolled your eyes, “Go talk to Steve and play nice with Sam.”

He gave you a mock salute with his signature smirk and disappeared into the living room. You smiled to yourself, grateful to have him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always felt that the Russos' explanation that Clint joined Team Cap because "Cap asked first" did an extreme disservice to Clint's character as a whole. I honestly think that Clint would be completely against the Accords right from the start. I mean he disobeyed Fury's orders to kill Natasha and orders to shoot Thor. Not to mention, he respects Steve so much as a leader because Steve has qualities he highly values. As seen in AOU, even with Natasha being taken by Ultron he follows Steve's orders because he knows it's the right thing to do. 
> 
> I'm sorry for the mini-rant. I'm very passionate about Clint Barton if you couldn't tell. If Hawkeye isn't your favorite Avenger then I'm sorry you're wrong. 
> 
> Anyway...
> 
> Whoop reconciliation!
> 
> As always, please comment or leave kudos if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote from "Are You With Me" by nilu


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: delicious shower smut! :3

**_“It’s like the sun came out_ **

**_And the day is clear_ **

**_My voice is just a whisper_ **

**_Louder than the screams you hear.”_ **

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**HYDRA Safehouse. Berlin, Germany. May 2016.**

Steam filled the bathroom, slowly obscuring the mirror. You braided your hair back before stepping into the shower. As you bathed, you reflected on the day’s events. It felt as if a whole week had taken place in the past 16 hours. You had been chased out of the Bucharest safehouse, captured by War Machine and the CIA, flown to Berlin, interrogated by Sharon and Natasha, discovered a setup to activate the Winter Soldier to gather intel about more Winter Soldiers, escaped the JCTC facility, and reconciled with Bucky. It almost didn’t seem real, but here you were in another HYDRA safehouse bathroom. At least, this one had decent water pressure. You began to decompress the only way you knew how.

“ **_Alarms will ring for eternity_ **

**_The waves will break every chain on me_ **

**_My bones will bleach_ **

**_My flesh will flee_ **

**_So help my lifeless frame to breathe”_ **

You sang as you rubbed the soap up and down your body, working it into a rich lather. You didn’t hear the door open or the shower curtain being pulled back. You gasped in surprise as hands, one cool the other warm, delicately skimmed up your sides.

“Don’t stop on my account, doll,” Bucky whispered huskily against the shell of your ear, pressing his broad chest against your back. His lips found your shoulder and moved up your neck. You sighed, the electricity of his touch made you shiver. Bucky’s hands traveled around your waist and slowly up your body to cup your breasts. You arched your back as he palmed them, pressing them further into his hands. He teased your nipples bringing them to stiff peaks. You breathed a sigh, “James.”

You shakily returned the soap to the soap dish and then your hands found their way into his hair, twisting and tugging the way you knew drove him crazy. He groaned in your ear. His metal hand traveled down over your navel to your sex. The pad of one of his metal fingers gathered the wetness that had pooled at your entrance the moment he began his assault on your breasts. It then began to make slow deliberate circles around your clit. The duality of his cool hand and the warm water running over your body made you tingle all over. You whined with unrestrained need.

He turned your face towards his. His eyes were dark and filled with desire; his gaze was intense as it was the day you met him. His slightly chapped lips brushed over your own, “Nu poate fi prea tare. Nu suntem singurii de aici.” _(“Can’t be too loud. We aren’t the only ones here.”)_ He kissed your cheek down to your ear. The movement of his hand between your legs never ceased. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths. Your mind was foggy with pleasure; he quickened the pace of his circling, adding another finger. His movements sent jolts of pleasure through your body.

“Crezi că poți să stai liniștit pentru sergentul tău?” he whispered saccharinely with a hint of authority. _(“You think you can stay quiet for your Sergeant?”)_ His breath hot in your ear. Your eyes fluttered closed as your head fell back onto his shoulder. You nodded, biting your lip to keep from crying out. You felt his chest rumble with a low chuckle as his hand left your face and moved down to palm your breasts once more.

“Good girl.”

You were putty in his hands now. His erection was evident, pressed against your ass. You reached back to stroke it, turning your face to watch his reaction. His mouth dropped open slightly, furrowing his brow as your thumb grazed over the tip. He let out a low groan as his eyes fluttered closed as you slowly pumped your hand up and down his shaft. You smiled; you loved watching his reactions when you touched him like this.

Grabbing your thigh, he propped your leg up on the edge of the bathtub. His hand continued to press on the nub between your thighs as he kissed his way down your back, pushing you forward slightly. You leaned against the shower wall, propping yourself up on your elbows. Metal fingers still circling your clit, his other hand guided his cock into your sex, slowly and intimately. You felt every inch of him as he sank into your folds.

You pressed your lips together in a hard line, trying to muffle the sounds you wished you could be making. The sensations were overwhelming. You and Bucky had not had sex since his birthday; right before he began his spiral into his obsession with the Winter Soldier’s missions. Your body remembered him though, taking him easily as he effortlessly slid in and out of your heat. Every stroke filling the void you had felt for the last few months, driving away all of your doubts.

“ _Gods, I’ve missed this.”_

The rhythmic slap of wet skin echoed in the small bathroom, as his hips pounded against your ass. Even if Steve and Sam didn’t hear your combined muffled moans, they would certainly hear this. Honestly, at this point, you couldn’t give two fucks. You were nearing your peak; the familiar warmth spread through you. The coil of pleasure deep in your core ready to snap.

You knew Bucky was getting close too. His thrusts became erratic as he grabbed onto your hips for support, hard enough to bruise. You secretly loved it when he marked you this way. His breathing was heavy, released in small grunts. You moved your own hand down to replace his; your thin deft fingers rubbing your clit in quick circular motions, driving you closer to the edge.

Bucky growled lowly at your actions; he pulled you back flush against his chest as he quickened the pace of his thrusts. The tip of his cock found that sweet spot inside of you over and over again, a relentless onslaught on your senses. You continued to rub your clit back and forth, increasing the speed. The delicious combination of your movements and his thrusts heightened the building sensations of imminent release.

“Come for me, doll.”

At his words, your cunt clenched exquisitely around his cock as you came. You clamped your hand over your mouth to stifle your lewd moans.

“That’s my good girl,” he panted before emptying into you with a soft guttural groan, his lips finding the pulse point on your neck to muffle his sounds. You were dizzy from the waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your legs were shaky from your orgasm, but Bucky held you steady as his languid thrusts slowed to a stop. He stayed inside you for a moment as he held you; you relished the closeness your coupling created.

He gently slid out of you, turning you around to face him, and pulled you in close. You kissed him soundly, hands resting on his chest. “I missed you,” you whispered, gazing up at him. The pupils of his steel-blue eyes still blown with desire, certainly matching your own.

He brushed your hair back with a smile; his eyes were soft. “I missed you too.” He kissed your forehead. 

When he pulled away, you reached for the soap once more, working it into a quick lather on a washcloth before passing it to Bucky. Both of you bathed in silence as the water became noticeably cooler by the minute. You chuckled, “I hope Steve showered because I think we just used all the hot water.”

“I don’t know if he did. When I went to talk to him, he was asleep on the couch. Can’t say I blame him after a day like today. But, I couldn’t take the awkward silence with Sam, so I grabbed a pack of cookies and came back.” He smiled, “I couldn’t resist when I heard you singing...and well...it’s been a while.” He turned off the shower once both of you had rinsed off.

“The real question is did you save me any cookies, Sergeant?” you chuckled, drying off with a towel.

He scoffed playfully, wrapping a towel around his waist. He grabbed your chin between his forefinger and thumb, “Of course.” His lips ghosted over your own, “Good girls deserve cookies.”

“Damn right, we do.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


Bucky stared in wonderment at your sleeping form. You had fallen asleep soon after the tryst in the shower. He knew you were exhausted. He could tell as soon as he had arrived back at the apartment in Bucharest that you hadn’t slept much over the past three days. Over the past two years, he had learned your cues as to how you were feeling, even when you tried to tell him otherwise. He watched the steady subtle rise and fall of your chest as you snuggled into his side. His fingers lightly traced designs on your skin as you slept.

He honestly didn’t understand what he had done to deserve you after all he had done. Your honesty, your loyalty, your kindness, your beauty, your nonjudgmental nature, all seemed too good for someone with the blood of hundreds of innocent people on his hands. It baffled him that you saw him as someone worthy of everything good, worthy of your love. He knew he would never truly be able to rid himself of his past. But if he was with you, there was a possibility he could come to terms with it eventually. Because of this, he would do whatever was needed to keep you safe. He knew you would do the same for him.

Bucky pushed your hair behind your ear and pressed a kiss against your temple. He slowly slid out of the small bed, careful not to wake you. Despite his own exhaustion, he wasn’t able to sleep. He walked into the living room with the intent of making some tea, if he could find any, to settle his nerves; a habit he had picked up from you.

Steve was awake and sitting on the couch, mindlessly thumbing through a tattered paperback book. He glanced up when he heard Bucky approach. “Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“No,” Bucky said, shaking his head, “You?”

Steve shook his head, “Can’t seem to turn my brain off.”

Bucky walked over and sat on the edge of a lumpy armchair across from Steve. “Y/N told me about Peggy. How are you holdin’ up?”

Steve sighed, tossing the book on the table, “As well as can be expected, I guess. When I came out of the ice, I didn’t think anyone I had known would be alive. I’m happy she was able to go on and live a full life after the War. I was lucky to have had these last few years with her.”

Bucky nodded, “I read her final report about what you did after I fell. Y/N managed to decrypt a lot of SSR files to help piece together what happened to me. I shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest that you crashed a plane into the Arctic in order to save the world.”

Steve smiled sheepishly and chuckled, “Yeah, well a lot of good it did. HYDRA was still around, causing chaos.”

Bucky shrugged, “But you saved a lot of lives.” He looked down, “That’s more than I can say.”

Steve sighed, “I should have gone after you...I...”

Bucky shook his head, “It’s okay…”

“No, it isn’t...I could have done it.”

“You didn’t know that at the time. I don’t blame you. Besides, the world needed you...It didn’t need me...”

Steve was silent for a moment, “...I needed you.”

Bucky gave him a sad smile, “I know, punk...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, jerk,” Steve chuckled. “It’s just good to have you back.”

Bucky smiled. A beat of silence passed between the two men before Steve spoke again. “So you escape HYDRA and the first thing you do is find a beautiful dame and run off?” Mirth gleamed behind his baby-blue eyes.

Bucky chuckled, “She found me technically.”

Steve nodded, “So she told me. I used to run into her sometimes when I worked for S.H.I.E.L.D.; she’s nice.”

“Maybe too nice,” Bucky smirked. “I mean she willingly took an ex-HYDRA operative to her house and offered him a place to stay.”

“Yeah, that was questionable,” Steve teased. “You let her call you by your first name.”

Bucky nodded, a slight blush creeping across his cheeks, “She doesn’t do it often, but I kinda like it when she does. I dunno it just feels right.”

Steve tilted his head to the side with a slight smile. In all the years he had known Bucky, he had never seen him look at a woman, much less talk about a woman, the way he did you. “You really love her, don’t you?”

Bucky met Steve’s eye. “I do,” he sighed, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, Steve. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Honestly, I’m terrified...“ he ran a hand through his hair. “Every time she reads over another Winter Soldier file or watches a video of one of those missions, I think to myself, ‘This is it. This is the part where she runs away’, but she never does. She stays. I don’t deserve it...deserve her...especially after all I have done.”

Steve shook his head, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “She sees you the way I see you, Buck. You’re a good man...you always have been...and if there is anyone who deserves love, happiness, something good...it’s you.”

Bucky smiled and nodded. He still wasn’t sure if he fully believed it himself, but having Steve echo your sentiments was comforting. “So, Star-Spangled Man with a Plan, what’s your plan for getting our stuff back? If we are going to go to war, we need the proper equipment.”

Steve rolled his eyes at the nickname, “I’ve got it covered.”

  
  


~*~*~*~  
  


**Under an Overpass. Berlin, Germany. May 2016.**

You, Sam, Steve, and Bucky were packed into a getaway car like sardines. With your combined weight, it baffled you that the undercarriage of the old beat-up faded blue Volkswagen Beetle wasn’t dragging on the ground as you drove.

“ _Seriously, Steve?! This is the car you chose to steal?” Sam hissed, gesturing to the ridiculously tiny car._

“ _Borrow,” you, Steve, and Bucky said simultaneously. You stared at one another for a moment before you all burst into laughter._

_Sam rolled his eyes, “Oh, y’all got inside jokes now?”_

_Steve sighed, “It was the best I could do. Besides, it won’t draw any unwanted attention.”_

“ _It will when we all pile out of it like a bunch of clowns,” Sam muttered._

Steve’s contact had informed him to meet them under an overpass close to the airport. Steve indicated all of your gear would be returned. You assumed the contact Steve spoke of was Sharon Carter, as she had a major lady boner for the blonde super-soldier. Steve pulled up behind a sleek black Audi sedan.

“Stay here,” he said as he exited the car.

You raised your hand in a mock salute, “Aye, Aye, Cap’n!”

Steve shook his head as he shut the door and walked up to the sedan.

As the sedan’s driver’s side door opened, you were surprised to see a red-headed woman stepping out of the car instead of a blonde one. “I’ll be goddamned,” you said. Although Natasha had let you and Steve go, you didn’t expect her to be the one willing to swipe your gear from the CIA’s evidence lock-up. She had made her stance regarding the Accords abundantly clear.

Steve strode toward Natasha, remarking how his chosen vehicle was low profile after she pointed at it with a questioning look.

Bucky shifted in the seat next to you, trying desperately to find a comfortable position. With no leg room to speak of, his knees were almost pressed against his chest. The car squeaked and groaned with the movement. “Can you move your seat up?” he asked Sam.

“No,” Sam said flatly without bothering to turn around.

“Shhh!” you hissed, as Bucky once again shifted positions. You leaned over Steve’s seat to roll down the window. “I wanna hear what they are saying.”

You watched as Natasha opened up the trunk of the sedan revealing Sam’s suit, Steve’s shield, and two black bags. They looked to be in deep conversation, but you couldn’t hear any of it. “Can you hear anything they are saying, Sarge?”

“Why are you so interested, doll?” Bucky chuckled.

“Come on,” you said dramatically, “I mean it’s like the plot to a romance novel, both have feelings for one another but they are on opposing sides. Forbidden love...they can’t be together. Do they stick to their guns and stay apart or say screw it and get together? It’s one of those ‘Will they? Or won’t they?’ moments.”

“We don’t even know if Natasha is even interested in Steve like that,” Bucky said.

“I think she is though,” Sam said. “It’s just the way they act around one another. I mean she used to be his partner on missions at S.H.I.E.L.D. When I first met the pair of them, even I thought they were a couple. They flirt constantly. They’ve spent a lot of time together as co-leaders of the New Avengers. They train together all of the time; their sparring matches can get a little spicy.”

“Right!” you added, “If she didn’t have feelings for him, why would she tell Steve and me about you going for the helicopter? She was fully capable of stopping us, but she let us go. And why would she be here now, giving us our shit back?”

Bucky shook his head, “She’s a spy. The infamous Black Widow. The best student the Red Room has ever had. She never does anything without a reason.”

“Maybe she is coming around to our way of thinking,” Sam mused.

“Or maybe the reason is that she likes Steve,” you posed.

“Ten bucks says both of you are wrong,” Bucky challenged.

“I’ll take that bet,” Sam said with a laugh.

“Same here,” you chuckled. “Natasha and I may not get along, but I wan-” You stopped talking as you witnessed Steve grab Natasha’s waist and pull her in for a kiss. “Oop!” Her hands wrapped around his neck and into his hair.

Sam nodded knowingly, “I told you.”

You laughed maniacally, turning to Bucky, “Pay up, Sarge.”

Bucky’s mouth hung open in a slight smile, “Son of a bitch.”

After a moment, Steve and Natasha slowly drifted apart, both with small smiles on their faces. She turned to grab the gear out of the trunk of the car. Steve turned back to face you still smiling. You, Bucky, and Sam nodded slowly with smug smiles on your faces. Steve tilted his head as if to say, “Really?” and waved you over to help.

“I got it,” you said, moving Steve’s seat up and sliding out of the car. “Don’t kill each other while I’m gone.” Sam and Bucky scoffed. You walked up to the sedan as Natasha turned back to Steve handing him his suit, shield, and Sam’s wings. He moved to bring them to the car, leaving you and Natasha alone. You nodded to her, “Romanoff.”

“L/N,” she greeted, passing Bucky’s go-bag and your laptop bag to you. She glanced over to the Volkswagen. “I see you got Barnes out of Winter Soldier mode. How did you manage that one?”

“Cognitive recalibration,” you said with a smirk.

She smiled knowingly, “Your Tactical Suit is in Barnes’ bag and all of his notebooks are in there as well as your passports and IDs. I also managed to keep Tony out of your laptop. He was going to have F.R.I.D.A.Y. go through it if you refused to talk to us again.”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

“Where did you get the suit? I didn’t think analysts were issued one.”

“They weren’t. Bucky and I raided the ruins of the Triskelion on our way out of DC two years ago.”

“Ah, smart.” She paused a moment before speaking again, looking to Steve as he talked to Bucky and Sam. “You seem like you’ve got a good head on your shoulders,” she turned back to you, “make sure he doesn’t do anything too reckless.”

You looked to the three men, catching Bucky’s eye; he winked. “No promises, you know Steve will do what he wants anyway” you shrugged. Natasha nodded in agreement with a small smile. “You’re not coming with us?”

She shook her head, “No, I still think the Accords are a good idea. I respect Steve’s opinions and he respects mine. But, if he gets into any trouble, I want him to be prepared.”

You nodded, backing toward the Volkswagen, “Thanks again, Nat.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Leipzig/Halle Airport Parking Garage. Berlin, Germany. May 2016.**

The getaway car grew more cramped with the addition of all your gear, but luckily the airport garage wasn’t far away. You made your way to the 6th level in silence. Steve refused to tell you, Sam, and Bucky anything he and Natasha discussed, so the three of you were pouting slightly. The Volkswagen pulled up next to a white 15-passenger van.

As Steve parked, you observed Clint coming around the van. Despite the circumstances, you were excited to see him again and catch up. The passenger door opened and out stepped a petite young woman with dark hair and elvish features, dressed head to toe in black. You assumed she must be Wanda Maximoff.

You exited the car after Steve and Sam, staying by Bucky’s side. He seemed distracted. Your hand found his and squeezed it once. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just eager to get moving,” he said, squeezing your hand back.

“Well, hopefully, we won’t run into any more trouble until we get to Siberia.”

Bucky nodded, his body was tense. You rubbed small circles on his back, turning your attention back to Steve and Clint.

“He’s rarin’ to go,” Clint said. “Had to put a little coffee in him,” he opened the van door with a slam, “but...he should be good.”

A lean bleary-eyed man with dark brown hair stumbled out of the van. This must have been the guy Sam had spoken of, Scott Lang. “Ugh...what time zone is this?” he groaned, holding up a hand to shield his eyes.

“Come on,” Clint said nodding towards Steve. The man did a double-take, awestruck. “Come on,” Clint shoved him towards Steve, shaking his head. He caught your eye and made his way toward you and Bucky. Wanda followed shyly behind him, her arms crossed.

“Hey, Nightingale,” he said softly, opening his arms for a hug which you accepted. He kissed your temple. “Ya doin’ alright?”

“Hey, Dad. I’m good,” you gave him a slight squeeze before pulling away, moving to Bucky’s side once more. He wrapped his arm around your waist.

Clint stuck his hand out to Bucky, “Buck.”

Bucky smiled, taking his outstretched hand in a firm handshake, “Clint.”

Clint motioned Wanda over; she hesitantly made her way forward. “This is Wanda Maximoff.” Wanda gave a small wave, still keeping her arms crossed. “Wanda, this is Agent Y/N L/N and Sergeant James Barnes.”

Bucky nodded to her, “Nice to meet you, Wanda. Please, call me Bucky.”

“I see Barton’s become the unofficial recruiter for the Avengers,” you stated. Clint rolled his eyes. You smiled at Wanda, “It’s good to meet you, Wanda.”

Wanda gave both of you a small smile, “I’m glad to meet you too. Clint spoke highly of you both all the way here.”

Clint shook his head at the statement and then eyed you and Bucky knowingly, “You two finally figured it out, huh?” He gestured to the both of you. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Bucky chuckled, pulling you in closer. Clint smirked, “Ya know, Laura, called it that first night.”

You laughed, “Of course she did.”

“How is everyone by the way?” Bucky asked.

“Oh, they are great! Laura and I are outnumbered now so that’s been fun.”

A big grin spread across Bucky’s face, “No way!” Something about his excitement made you feel warm and fuzzy.

You squealed in excitement, “Congrats! You have pictures?!”

Clint fumbled for his phone, showing you his lock screen. “This is Nathaniel Pietro Barton.” You and Bucky cooed over the picture of the plump infant.

Steve, Sam, and Scott made their way over to your group. A confused look crossed Steve’s features, “Wait, Barton, how do you know Bucky exactly?”

“Uhhhm,” Bucky stammered, scratching the back of his neck.

“After we left DC, we went to New York, searching for answers. When you sent Clint to do recon in Brooklyn, he helped us deal with a group of HYDRA agents who had been sent to retrieve Bucky. Honestly, it was completely by happenstance that he found us. I was injured, so he took us to the homestead so I could recover. Then he helped us leave the country,” you explained.

Steve turned to Clint in disbelief. “You said that engagement in Brooklyn was a result of infighting.”

“Technically there was fighting involved,” Clint reasoned.

“All this time...why didn’t you tell me?”

Clint raised his hands in surrender, “Hey, I tried to convince them to go back to New York, to The Tower.”

“It’s true; he did,” Bucky confirmed. “But, you needed to have all of your focus on eliminating HYDRA. You didn’t need to be worried about looking for me.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know you were actively looking for him all this time,” Clint added.

“But sti-” Steve started.

You stepped forward, not wanting the conversation to become any more heated. “Okay, we can discuss this later. Let’s not get distracted here.” Steve sighed and nodded.

“We should get moving,” Bucky stated.

Clint nodded, “We got a chopper lined up.”

“ **_Dies ist eine notsituation. Alle passagiere müssen den flughafen sofort evakuieren.”_ ** _(“This is an emergency. All passengers must evacuate the airport immediately.”)_

Bucky shook his head with a sigh, “They’re evacuating the airport.”

“Shit,” you murmured.

Sam looked at Steve, “Stark.”

“Stark?” Scott asked, confused.

Steve sighed and then looked around at the group, “Suit up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> Sorry, not sorry for the use of honorifics. lol. 
> 
> Please comment or leave kudos if you are enjoying the story! It makes me super happy when you do!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote from "Start of Time" by Gabrielle Aplin and the song you sing in the shower is "My Blood" by Ellie Goulding.


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**_“I’m not looking for forgiveness._ **

**_And I am way past asking for permission…_ **

**_if you wanna stand in our way…_ **

**_We’ll fight you too.”_ **

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Leipzig/Halle Airport Parking Garage. Berlin, Germany. May 2016.**

You all dispersed to gather your gear and find a secluded spot to change. You and Bucky had made your way to one of the attached stairwells. You pulled the Tactical Suit out of Bucky’s go-bag. Underneath it was another jacket you didn’t recognize. You pulled it out curiously. It was a large black jacket similar to your own with the left sleeve cut off.

“Hey, Sarge,” you said. Bucky moved to your side; you handed him the jacket.

“What’s this?” he asked, looking it over.

“Nat must have put it in there for you when she was grabbing our gear.”

Bucky nodded, pulling at the fabric, “It has more give than the leather one I used to wear.” He pulled off his maroon henley, leaving him in his skin-tight black muscle tank. You couldn’t help but admire his form, especially his arms and hands. Bucky shook his head when he noticed you staring, “Gettin’ a good look, doll?”

You ran your tongue across your teeth and raised one eyebrow with a smirk, “Uh-huh.” You pulled your hair back into a ponytail nonchalantly.

He rolled his eyes and pulled on the jacket, “You’re incorrigible.”

You chuckled, “So I have been told.” You shimmied your jeans down your legs, deciding to forgo the extra layer of clothing for a better range of movement. As you bent over to pull on the Tactical pants, Bucky’s hand suddenly smacked your ass. You squealed, turning to stick your tongue out at him.

He shrugged and flashed you his signature smirk, “I had to do it.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, as you pulled the pants on. “And you say I’m incorrigible.” He laughed.

You discarded your anorak and pulled on the Tactical jacket, zipping it up. You grabbed your Smith & Wesson and Sig, placing them in your thigh holsters. You didn’t plan on using them against Tony and whoever else he roped into fighting with him, but you didn’t know what awaited you in Siberia. You stuck extra magazines in your pants pockets and made sure your remaining taser disks were still in your jacket within easy reach. Just because you couldn’t use your guns against Steve’s former teammates, didn’t mean you couldn’t use your non-lethal weapons. You folded yours and Bucky’s clothing and handed them to Bucky to pack in the go-bag.

You grabbed a Rubber Ducky out of your laptop bag and placed it in your front jacket pocket. Steve had reasoned that since Tony had the airport evacuated it was likely he already knew they had a helicopter chartered. He tasked you with hacking into the airport’s mainframe to find an alternative form of transport. The Rubber Ducky would allow you to slip past the security protocols giving you unlimited access to the manifests.

You made sure everything else was packed away, but not before backing everything up on your computer to one of your multiple terabyte flash-drives. You would be leaving most of your gear behind in Clint’s van, hoping to retrieve it once the threat in Siberia was neutralized. However, you wanted to be prepared just in case. Like before when the Triskelion was attacked, you activated your firewall and encryption program. You also set up everything to be erased from the hard drive after two failed password attempts before powering down the laptop.

In a last-minute decision, you decided to fold up the picture of you and Hunter and stuff it in your back pocket, having her with you gave you comfort. You stood up, tucking the flash drive in your pocket next to the Rubber Ducky. “You ready?” you asked, turning to Bucky. He had grown quiet. His gaze was far away, and his thumb and forefinger were circling each other once again. His jaw clenched. His breathing was becoming heavy and ragged. “Hey,” you whispered, taking his hands in yours, “We’re gonna get this guy.”

“I don’t wanna go back there, Y/N...I can’t go back there...” His voice broke. He vacantly stared at the wall past you, gripping your hands tightly as if your touch was the only thing keeping him grounded. He was terrified. Your chest ached to see him this way. “I know...I know what waits for us there...It’s nothing good...I just...” He swallowed hard, focusing his gaze on your face. “People may get hurt because of me...I’m scared you may get hurt because of me.”

It was rare that Bucky was this candid. The fact he was disclosing all of this gave you an indication of how frightened he actually was. “I know you never wanted to return to that godforsaken bunker. I know all you want to be done with this, the fighting, the running...with all of it. You’re not alone in your fear, but that’s why we have each other...” You squeezed his hands back. “Steve, Clint, and the others...they are doing this because it’s the right thing to do. They know what they signed up for...I know what I signed up for.” You moved closer to him. “Our friends may get hurt, probably will get hurt, but it’s not your fault if they do...They made their choice...I’ve made my choice.”

Bucky placed his forehead against yours, “If I lost you, doll...If I ever did, I...” His voice was thick with emotion. Your eyes welled with tears, you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “Just...promise me...promise you will keep your distance and engage only if you absolutely have to.”

You sighed heavily. His eyes bore into yours, pleading with you to give in, to agree. And you wanted to, but you knew your nature. If anyone you loved was threatened in any way, you would do your damnedest to neutralize that threat even if it meant putting yourself in harm’s way. You smiled softly, “I can try, but you know me...” you shook your head slightly. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

Bucky smiled sadly, “I know.” He stared at you a moment longer, bringing his hand up to cup your face. You leaned into his touch as his fingers threaded through your hair. Simultaneously, you both pulled one another closer; your lips meeting in a gentle kiss. It was soft and lingering. A kiss to express the love you had for one another. You tried not to think of it as a goodbye kiss.

You pulled away slightly, keeping your forehead against his. “I love you,” you whispered.

He pulled you in for another stronger firmer kiss before whispering, “I love you too.”

You both stood this way for a few moments in the calm before the storm. After today, things would change, and you knew you may not like the outcome. You sighed, stroking his cheek with your thumb, wishing the moment could last forever. “We should go...”

Bucky nodded and reluctantly pulled away from you, grabbing the bags. You held out your hand and his warm fingers interlaced with your own as you walked back toward the others.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Leipzig/Halle Airport Terminal. Berlin, Germany. May 2016.**

“And our chopper is out of commission,” Sam sighed, observing Steve’s attempt to persuade Tony to let them go without a fight via his drone, Redwing. “We need to find something else quick.”

“I’m looking,” you said, typing furiously on the computer’s keyboard at one of the airport gates. Your eyes scanned hundreds of manifests, searching for familiar names and cities of origin.

Clint’s voice came over your earpiece, “Nightingale, there is a good chance the Avengers’ Quinjet is here.”

“Copy that,” you replied. You narrowed your search parameters. “Got it. The manifest says it was parked in Hanger 5 on the north runway, the one nearest the air traffic control tower. Might wanna send Redwing over there to make sure.” You continued to search for any suitable aircraft just in case the manifest was incorrect.

“Looks like Cap’s attempt at swaying Tony isn’t going well. We need to move,” Clint said from his and Wanda’s perch in the parking garage.

“We got it,” Sam said, confirming your findings. “Their Quinjet is in Hanger 5 North Runway.”

“Alright, get ready. Also be advised that we have two additional people that have joined Tony’s team, one in a black catsuit and another in a red and blue suit.” Clint said.

You removed the Rubber Ducky from the computer and crouched over towards Sam and Bucky. “Of course T’Challa would be on Stark’s side,” you said.

“Go now,” Clint ordered.

You, Sam, and Bucky took off running down the length of the terminal.

“There is an emergency exit that leads straight out to the tarmac at the end of the terminal. It should be a relatively straight shot from there to the hanger,” you said to Sam and Bucky. They both nodded.

A thud came from the skylights above. You spotted a figure scuttling along the glass like a bug, following your movements down the terminal.

_What the fuck?_

“What the hell is that?” Bucky asked, keeping pace with you and Sam.

“Everyone’s got a gimmick now.” Sam deadpanned.

The figure jumped back then swung through the windows, shattering the glass upon impact. You and Bucky skidded to a stop; he covered your body with his own, shielding you from the falling glass. The figure crashed into Sam knocking him backward. Bucky turned toward the figure throwing a punch with his metal arm. The figure caught it easily and twisted Bucky’s arm with little effort, eyeing it with curiosity and fascination. Your mouth dropped open at their strength.

Then the figure spoke. “You have a metal arm!? That is awesome, dude!” It was the voice of a young boy.

“ _Okay, what?”_

Bucky’s eyes widened in shock. His fighting stance faltered; he slightly lowered his other fist not knowing if he should continue to engage. At that moment, Sam flew into the boy and hauled him off down the terminal. Seemingly, having no qualms about fighting someone who had barely entered puberty.

You and Bucky exchanged looks of bewilderment. “That’s a child!” you exclaimed. “What the fuck was Stark thinking!?”

Bucky looked down the terminal as the boy used his webbing to fly after Sam. “He’s fucking strong. What are they feeding kids these days?”

You shrugged, “It’s probably the prenatal vitamins their moms take.”

Bucky shook his head, “Come on, if I can’t take the kid alone, you know he won’t be able to.” You and Bucky took off running down the terminal toward Sam and the boy.

Sam weaved in and out of the rafters effortlessly as did the boy, deftly swinging on strings of webbing like Tarzan. He fired shots at the boy which he easily dodged.

Bucky slowed to a stop at a large sign that had been knocked down during their fight. “Get behind the pillar!” You ducked as Bucky lobbed the large metal sign at the boy who was balancing on one of the rafters; his back was turned. Sneaking a peek around the pillar, you saw the boy swiftly turn around and dodge the projectile easily, like he sensed it coming. Your eyes widened as Bucky ducked behind the pillar next to you.

For a second, all was quiet. Bucky moved to take a peek around the pillar once more.

**“HEY, BUDDY! I THINK YOU LOST THIS!”**

You heard the whoosh of something large slicing through the air before the sign Bucky had thrown crashed against the pillar. Buckyjerked backward narrowly avoiding being hit. He again covered you with his body, protecting you from the falling debris.

You brushed some debris off your shoulders, “Cheeky little bastard isn’t he?”

Again you and Bucky ran after Sam and the boy. Sam had knocked him down off the beam and almost into the ground. However, the boy was too quick and used his webbing to hoist himself up. Sam flew past him. The boy then fired webbing at the Exo suit’s thrusters sending Sam careening into a kiosk, crashing to the floor.

You and Bucky ducked behind another kiosk to avoid detection. The boy had Sam’s arms webbed to a glass balcony railing.

“Those wings carbon fiber?” the boy asked from his perch on another pillar. The way he hung onto the side of it reminded you of a spider.

“Is this stuff coming out of you?” Sam asked incredulously.

The Spider-Boy continued, “That would explain the rigidity-flexibility ratio, which, gotta say, that's awesome, man.”

You and Bucky continued to make your way forward waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

“I don't know if you've been in a fight before, but there's usually not this much talking,” Sam huffed.

“Alright, sorry, my bad,” the boy said with a chuckle. He moved to swing into Sam.

“Dammit,” Bucky said, running and jumping in front of Sam, taking the full force of the boy’s hit. They both fell through the glass and onto the floor below. The boy swung back to his perch, and shot more webbing at the men, pinning them to the floor. You stayed hidden waiting for your chance to lob a taser disk at the boy.

“Guys, look. I'd love to keep this up but I've only got one job here today and I gotta impress Mr. Stark, so, I’m really sorry.” You darted out from your hiding place. The boy made a move to shoot webbing at you when Redwing flew by, attaching a grappling hook to the boy’s wrist. “What the-“ The little drone dragged the boy through the glass wall, smacking his head on a metal beam then unceremoniously dropped him onto the tarmac below.

_Well, that’s one way to do it._

You looked over the balcony railing to the floor below. Sam and Bucky were sprawled out restrained by the webbing. Thankfully, they were unharmed. You quickly made your way down the stairs to help free them.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” Bucky exclaimed a slight whine to his tone.

“I hate you,” Sam sighed gruffly.

You clicked your tongue as you approached them. “Boys, behave or I’ll ground you both.” Both men rolled their eyes. You grabbed Bucky’s knife from his boot and cut them free.

A large explosion came from outside the terminal. All three of you ducked. “I’d say things are getting a little heated,” Sam quipped.

“Ya think?!” Bucky said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Would both of you just hush and come on?” you said, running toward the emergency exit.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Leipzig/Halle Airport Tarmac. Berlin, Germany. May 2016.**

You, Sam, and Bucky ran toward Hanger 5 on high alert for any incoming attacks.

“There’s our ride,” Clint said over the comms. You spotted him and Wanda dart out from behind a baggage tram. Steve and Scott soon joined them.

Steve looked over to the three of you. “Come on!” he shouted, waving to him. You linked up with the four of them, keeping pace. Suddenly, you were grateful for the training Bucky had given you, and all of the times he made you go on runs with him. There was no way in hell you would have been able to keep up with them had this happened two years ago.

A beam of yellow energy sliced across the tarmac, drawing a line in the proverbial sand. Your team skidded to a sudden stop. You looked up at the source. A red and blue man with a yellow cape hovered above the runway.

“What’s with the multicolored replicant?” you asked. Bucky shrugged.

“That’s Vision,” Clint answered.

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!” Vision boomed. “I know that you believe what you are doing is right.” Tony flew down with Natasha in tow. “But for the collective good, you must surrender now.” He was soon joined by Rhodey, T’Challa, and the Spider-Boy. Each team sized the other up, silently daring the other to make the first move.

“What do we do, Cap?” Sam asked, waiting for orders.

Steve’s expression was hard, voice steely, “We fight.”

Bucky looked at you, “Stick close to me.”

You smiled, “Always.”

Both teams started towards one another slowly, picking up their pace before breaking into an all-out sprint. They collided with one another, exchanging blows with arrows, batons, fists, psionic energy, and webbing.

T’Challa’s gaze locked on Bucky, determined to take revenge for his father’s death. You were knocked aside as he and Bucky traded blows. T’Challa’s barely looked your way, his focus was entirely on the soldier in front of him. You used this to your advantage. You ran up to the pair. Using Bucky’s thigh as a boost, you quickly climbed onto T’Challa’s shoulders wrapping your legs around one of his outstretched arms. With all your might, you flung yourself backward and around using your momentum to bring him crashing to the ground. As you released your legs, Bucky caught and righted you.

Bucky raised an eyebrow with a smirk, “You’ve been practicing.”

Using him as a support, you kicked T’Challa in the face as he staggered back up, knocking him to the ground once more.

“Eh, it helps when I have you to spot me,” you panted.

Bucky’s smirk was replaced by a grimace. He quickly shoved you behind him as T’Challa advanced. Bucky blocked his blows and landed a solid punch sending him flying back onto the ground. T’Challa quickly righted himself and made for Bucky once more. Both locked their hands around each other’s throat. Bucky easily pulled T’Challa’s away; his metal arm still clamped tightly around his neck. “I didn’t kill your father,” Bucky said firmly.

“Then why did you run?” T'Challa spat. He pulled Bucky’s hand away from his neck and spun him around, sending him careening into a pallet loaded with shipping crates with a fly-kick.

You activated one of your taser disks and threw it at T’Challa as his vibranium claws made for Bucky’s throat. As he shook from the onslaught of electric shocks, red energy surrounded his outstretched hand inches. You turned to see Wanda. With a grunt, she turned her hands and sent him flying into a nearby jet bridge, slamming him into it hard enough to leave a sizable dent.

You nodded to her, “Thanks, Wan.”

“No problem,” she said as she ran off to help someone else.

You helped Bucky up. “You good?”

Bucky nodded, “Slight bruising.”

You shook your head with a slight chuckle, “Come on.” Both of you made your way toward the hanger hiding behind various vehicles and shipment pallets to evade the sight of Tony, Rhodey, and Vision who were flying above the runway. You noticed you hadn’t seen Natasha since the initial standoff. You and Bucky took cover behind a jet bridge; Steve soon joined you, stopping to catch his breath.

“We gotta go,” Bucky said to Steve. “That guy is probably in Siberia by now.” You nodded. The doctor had a 24-hour headstart which didn’t bode well for making it to the bunker before he woke the other Winter Soldiers.

“We gotta draw out the flyers. I’ll take Vision. You and Y/N get to the jet.” Steve said, actively looking around for Vision.

“Steve-” you started.

“No! You get to the jet, the three of you!” Sam’s voice came over your earpiece as he flew overhead Rhodey close behind him. “The rest of us aren’t getting out of here.”

You turned to Bucky who frowned. This was the exact opposite of what he wanted to happen. Cutting the team in half and leaving them at the mercy of Secretary Ross and the UN was not part of the plan, but since when had things ever gone according to plan.

Clint’s voice came over your earpiece, “As much as I hate to admit it if we’re gonna win this one, some of us might have to lose it.”

“This isn’t the _real_ fight, Steve,” Sam said.

You shook your head. Bucky and Steve shared a look. Steve sighed, “Alright, Sam, what’s the play?”

“We need a diversion, something big.”

“I got something kinda big,” Scott’s voice piped up. You cocked an eyebrow. “But, I can’t hold it very long. On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half...don’t come back for me.”

“What signal?” you asked.

Bucky looked confused. “He’s...He’s gonna tear himself in half?”

“You sure about this, Scott?” Steve asked.

“I do it all the time...” Scott's optimism sounded forced. You frowned. Whatever it was he wanted to do, it didn’t sound like it was going to work. “I mean...once...in a lab...then I passed out.” You pinched the bridge of your nose.

_We’re doomed._

Sam and Rhodey flew overhead; then out of seemingly nowhere, Scott materialized and grew to a massive size. He towered over the surrounding 747s, standing almost as tall as the terminal. Your eyes widened, “Holy fuck.” Scott caught Rhodey by the leg and laughed maniacally, surprised by his success. You, Bucky, and Steve emerged from your hiding spot and stared at Scott in awe.

“I guess that’s the signal.” Steve quipped.

“Way to go, Tic-Tac!” Sam’s voice called over comms.

“GIVE ME BACK MY RHODEY!” Tony shouted, using his microphone to make his displeasure known. Scott threw Rhodey across the airport tarmac, sending him end over end.

You, Steve, and Bucky sprinted toward the hanger, dodging debris from Scott’s rampage. Explosions erupted from all sides. You kept your sights on the hanger. At this point, you, Steve, and Bucky would be the only ones to face whatever awaited you in Siberia. You just hoped it was only one person instead of six. The three of you ran through Scott’s legs and under a plane. The distraction had done its job.

You glanced around to see if you were being followed. You spotted T’Challa weave through the pallets of shipping crates and baggage trams. Clint was close behind, firing arrows in his direction. At this rate, T'Challa would overtake the three of you effectively cutting off any chance of making it to the Quinjet. Without hesitation, you broke off from Bucky and Steve and made to head him off. Bucky called your name.

“GO!” you shouted, “DON’T STOP!”

Using a half-packed pallet as a pseudo-staircase, you launched yourself directly into T’Challa’s path, grabbing him by the neck and using gravity to pull him to the ground and flip him on his back. You rolled off of him, into your fight stance, moving to kick him. He blocked your kicks with his knees. You dodged his punches. He may have been stronger than you, but you were quicker. Soon, Clint was at your side, morphing his bow into a staff. You and Clint worked together to keep T’Challa occupied.

Bucky called your name again over the comms.

“Du-te, James! Te voi găsi mai târziu! Vă promit!” you said in between dodging T’Challa’s blows. _(“Go, James! I will find you later! I promise!”)_

“Nu! Nu fără tine!” Bucky shouted; you heard the desperation in his voice. _(“No! Not without you!”)_ Your chest tightened. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. With a boost from Clint, you were on T’Challa’s shoulders once more, driving your elbow over and over into his head.

“Buck! C’mon!” Steve yelled.

Despite your teamwork, you and Clint were slowly becoming overwhelmed by T’Challa’s strength and speed. He threw you off of him, using the momentum you rolled out of it, quickly righting yourself. “Fugi de-aici! Merge! Te voi găsi! Vă promit!” you grunted, swiping T’Challa’s legs out from under him, allowing Clint to strike with his staff. _(“Get out of here! Go! I will find you! I promise!”)_

The comms were silent for a moment.

“Te iubesc,” Bucky said resignedly. _(“I love you.”)_

“Ştiu,” you replied, taking out another taser disk. _(“I know.”)_ Clint had his staff around T’Challa’s throat, holding him still; you threw the taser disk at him. But this time T’Challa was ready for it, he backhanded it towards you. With no enhanced reflexes, you were unable to dodge it. It hit you square in the chest, sending hundreds of powerful electrical pulses throughout your body. Pain. Pure unadulterated pain. With a strangled cry, you dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap. You swore your heart stopped for a moment as your body shook with aftershocks.

“Nightingale!” Clint shouted. T’Challa used Clint’s distraction to slice his staff in two with his vibranium claws. He whirled around kicking his opponent in the face, knocking him to the ground before sprinting after Steve and Bucky. Clint groaned in pain; the wind having been knocked out of him.

You fought to stay conscious. “Fucking motănel,” you hissed, turning your head towards the hanger. You watched as Vision spotted Steve and Bucky. He fired a beam of energy at the attached air traffic control tower aiming to cut off their access.

“Wanda!” you called gruffly into your comm, “The tower.”

“On it!” Her voice came over your earpiece. Waves of pulsing red energy stopped the building from crashing down just long enough for them to make it through before Wanda was incapacitated by Rhodey’s sonic beam.

You rolled over, looking toward the sky. Your chest heaving. Your arms and legs continued to tingle from the shocks you received. Your hair was plastered to your forehead with sweat. You’d helped Steve and Bucky escape, but at what cost? Clint appeared in your line of vision. “Y/N! C’mon!” He reached out his hand to help you up. You grabbed it feebly, nearly falling over as he pulled you to your feet. Your vision swam. “You alright?”

You nodded with a grimace, “Those things really do sting.” Clint chuckled.

Gunshots and the whine of the Quinjet’s thrusters rang out from the hanger. You turned to see chunks of debris being blown out of the away followed by the Quinjet taking off toward open sky. Tony and Rhodey chased after the jet with Sam not too far behind. He fired small explosives similar to anti-aircraft artillery at Rhodey.

You noticed another beam of yellow energy streak its way across the sky towards Sam. “Sam! You got incoming!” you yelled into your comm. You watched as he ducked out of the way, the beam struck Rhodey in the chest. He dropped out of the sky, a black streak of smoke emitted from his suit leaving a dark trail behind him. Your heart leaped in your throat. You clutched Clint’s arm.

“Oh shit,” Clint exclaimed.

You and Clint watched helplessly as Rhodey tumbled toward the Earth. Tony and Sam raced after him, desperate to reach him before he could crash. But, they were too late. Rhodey landed in the middle of a field with a loud crash and plume of dirt.

“Oh, gods.” You brought your hand to your mouth. Clint wrapped his arm around your shoulders. Sirens of emergency vehicles whined in the distance, growing closer by the second. You looked to Clint anxiously, “Dad, you need to go. You can’t get caught.” He shook his head. “They can hold you indefinitely. There’s no telling when you will see your family again if you ever will,” you pleaded.

“I made my choice. Laura knew this was a possibility,” he frowned as several police vehicles and ambulances came into view surrounding the tarmac. “Besides, I couldn’t make it outta here if I tried.”

You felt tears spill down your cheeks as you desperately glanced around, looking for any means of escape for Clint. A small plane, another helicopter, or hell even a truck. You could get caught. He couldn’t; he had too much to lose. “There has to be something...some way for you to get back home...Cooper. Lila. Nate. They need you...”

Clint pulled you in tighter as armed agents made their way toward you. He kissed your temple as a small sob broke from your lips. You couldn’t help but feel that somehow this was your fault. If you hadn’t called Clint, he would still be with his family, not here about to be arrested for violating an international peace agreement. “Hey,” he said cheerfully, smiling, “It’ll all work out in the end. Don’t worry.” The agents moved in closer, their weapons were drawn.

You swallowed hard and nodded. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Nightingale.” He let go of you and put his hands up in the air. He motioned for you to do the same. You raised your hands above your head.

Several agents descended on you and Clint. One ripped your hands behind your back and cuffed them together. Another patted you down, taking everything out of your pockets, including your flash drive and the picture of Hunter. “You lose that picture, pal, and I will choke the life out of you and not lose a wink of sleep at night,” you hissed through clenched teeth. The agent scoffed and roughly manhandled you toward the prisoner transport van.

“Still threatening joint task force agents, Y/N?” Sam tutted, as he was led to the van. He was covered in sweat, the task force had taken his wings. His shirt was torn and burnt around the edges; a raw spot on his skin gleamed in the sunlight. He grimaced as the agent jostled him into the van.

“When they stop taking my stuff, I’ll stop,” you replied. The agents shoved you in the van and slammed the door.

Sitting back in the seat, you looked toward the sky once more. The Quinjet was long gone. You could only hope that Steve and Bucky would make it to Siberia in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> I usually don't like reading fanfics that give you a play by play of scenes from the movies, so I tried to do that as little as possible here. 
> 
> Also, I adopted the headcanon that since Bucky helped train Steve and Natasha, they would all have similar fighting styles. So naturally, if Bucky trained you then you would also have similar moves to him, Nat and Steve. 
> 
> Also, also, I may or may not have cried while writing Clint's and your exchange at the end of the chapter. 
> 
> I have been receiving a lot of wonderfully lovely comments over the past few days and I want to tell you how much I appreciate all the kind words!! Thank you so much!! Please continue to leave comments if you are enjoying the story! I think there are probably about 2 to 3 more chapters for this story to go before moving on to the sequel. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Music listened to during this chapter: Captain America: Winter Soldier Score, a few from Captain America: The First Avenger and Captain America: Civil War, and of course "Portals" and "The Real Hero" from Avengers: Endgame. 
> 
> Beginning Quote: Steve Rogers to Secretary Ross in a conversation during Avengers: Infinity War.


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

“ **_Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our point of view.”_ **

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**Joint Counter Terrorist Centre. Berlin, Germany. May 2016.**

Once again you were back in the small office off the JCTC Control Room. You held your head in your hands, elbows resting on the table. They had already carted off Clint, Sam, Scott, and Wanda to a place called The Raft. You had watched them place Wanda in a straight jacket and then lock a shock collar around her neck before loading her into the transport. She looked so defeated, almost resigned to it. It made you furious.

You would have been taken there too, but T’Challa decided if he couldn’t have Bucky Barnes, he would settle for his supposed accomplice. You suspected he planned on using you as bait in some way once the Task Force had asked all their questions and officially turned you over to him.

You sighed; your thoughts wandered once again to Bucky. You hoped he would forgive you for going after T’Challa. You told him you would stay close, and you broke that promise. Knowing that you broke a promise, even if it was for the right reasons, killed you inside. You were glad he had Steve with him; he wouldn’t be able to face the place he feared most alone.

“ _I’m beginning to think we should have never left Austria in the first place. Then we wouldn’t be in this fucking mess.”_

The door to the office swung open. Tony stomped over to the table and flopped down in a chair with a loud sigh. He looked battered. Small cuts littered his face; he was sporting a large shiner. His left arm hung in a sling. He pulled out his phone to check something and then tossed it onto the table. He leaned forward, staring at you. You defiantly stared back, narrowing your eyes. “How’s the Colonel?” you asked sincerely.

Tony shook his head, “Most likely paralyzed; we will know more when they fly him back to the States.” You nodded, asking no further questions nor offering any sympathy. “Tell me where they went,” Tony ordered.

“No,” you said simply.

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no; you wanna hear it in Romanian?...Nu.”

Tony tilted his head to the side, “Now who’s being immature?”

You rolled your eyes. “Lemme guess no one else talked so you figured you’d try me?” You chuckled condescendingly. “Big mistake.”

“Do you know _what_ he is?”

“I know _who_ he is, Stark,” you spat. “But I have a feeling you are about to give me your unsolicited opinion anyway.”

“He’s a killer, Y/N...a weapon. He’s murdered hundreds of people, most of them innocent people. You’ve seen him...You know what he can do. The records don’t lie.”

“The records are not the whole picture,” you said evenly.

“You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that won’t change its nature.”

You snorted, shaking your head at his attempts to sway your loyalty, to plant seeds of doubt in your mind. “Wow...” You rubbed your forehead tiredly, “You know, for someone who always assumes they are the smartest person in the room, you are unbelievably ignorant. People only listen to you because you act like you know what you are talking about when you actually know nothing. You just have your opinions.” Tony was silent. “You honestly think that I, of all people, am just going to switch sides because as the self-appointed smartest person in the room, you are always right about everything?” You paused, leaning forward, looking him dead in the eye. “One day, your assumptions and your attitude are going to be your doom, Tin Man, and I really hope I am there to see it.”

“Did I strike a nerve?”

“There are approximately 1,010,300 words in the English language, but I could never string enough words together to properly express how much I want to hit you with a chair,” you seethed.

Tony nodded, “Yeah, I struck a nerve.”

You chuffed, “Why don’t you go do some fucking research before you speak to me again? Until then,” you crossed your arms and leaned back in your chair, “I’m not telling you a goddamn thing.”

“Do you really wanna rot in a Wakandan prison?” he scoffed, “‘Cause that’s gonna be what happens if you don’t tell me where they are.”

“Well, seeing as that was the plan all along at least Steve and Bucky will know where to find me,” you smirked, “...unlike you.”

“God, how did Barnes live with you for the last two years?” He crossed his arms and propped his chin on his hand. “You are horrible company, kitten.”

“I know; it keeps me awake at night.” Sarcasm heavy in your voice.

“You’re on the wrong side.”

“That’s your truth, Stark. Not mine.”

A moment of silence lapsed between you, only broken by a light knock at the door. The door opened slightly, revealing Sharon Carter. “Tony, King T’Challa and Secretary Ross would like to see you,” she said.

Tony sighed, casting a look your way before getting up and sauntering toward the door, following Sharon out. “Don’t go anywhere,” he called over his shoulder. The door shut with a slam.

You looked down and let out a long breath, stretching your arms across the table. Your fingers nudged a thin metal object. You glanced up; Tony’s cellphone still lay on the table. You looked toward the door then back at the phone. Quickly, you snatched it up. The razor-thin phone looked to be made of glass with a metal band around it. Tapping the screen, you were astonished to discover that Tony Stark didn’t lock his cellular device with a passcode or a fingerprint scan.

_Arrogant son of a bitch._

~*~*~*~

  
  


A few hours passed and Tony had still not returned. You dozed off a few times. Paced around the room. You were left alone with nothing but your racing intrusive thoughts. Your mind flew through all of the possible scenarios Bucky and Steve would face once they reached Siberia. Each one worse than the last. You had chewed and picked your cuticles raw. You had made your 100th lap around the room when your boot buzzed. You looked out the small window of the door, making sure the coast was clear.

You sat at the table and pulled the phone out of your boot. You laid the phone on your thigh, hidden underneath the table reminiscent of a high school student secretly texting during class. A file had been uploaded with priority status. You tapped the screen to open it. Numerous pictures of a dead body floated across the screen along with a police report from the Berlin Police Department.

The police report detailed the investigation into the death of Dr. Theo Broussard. The UN-designated psychiatrist from Geneva. More photos from an airport security camera popped up on the screen. In the photos, you recognized the face of the supposed doctor who had activated the Winter Soldier. The same man who was headed for Siberia to activate the other five Winter Soldiers. Your mouth dropped open as you continue to read the report.

It detailed that the suspect in Dr. Broussard’s murder was a Sokovian man named Colonel Helmut Zemo who was once a leader of a covert military unit. “That explains how he was able to dupe the JCTC into thinking he was the assigned psychiatrist and his fighting technique.” You continued to read on, “Found a wig and facial prostheses resembling James Buchanan Barnes...Oh my god.”

You had known all along that Bucky was innocent; this only confirmed what you already knew. But, other people were not privy to this information. This information gave legitimacy to your team’s actions. However, you feared that when the Task Force was confronted with this information they would ignore it due to the political game they were playing. Admitting to such a mistake would cause a decline in support for the Accords and those who enforced them. No, this information needed to be given to the right people with the right amount of political pull.

You emailed all of the files to yourself, determined to hold on to them if they were ever needed. Slipping the phone back into your boot, you made for the door only to have it open as you reached for the handle.

“Oh!” Sharon said, startled by your proximity. “What are you doing, Y/N?” she asked as she made her way into the office.

“I need to see T’Challa,” you said.

She looked at you incredulously, shaking her head, “You need to what?”

“I need to speak with King T’Challa...now.”

She looked at you questioningly, “Why?”

“I’m willing to give you all the information you need, but I’ll only talk to T’Challa...alone.”

She eyed you carefully. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Give me a moment, I’ll go get him.”

You nodded, “Thank you, Sharon.”

She continued to eye you questioningly as she made her way out of the office. You sat at the table; your leg bouncing as the minutes ticked by. Was this the right call? T’Challa seemed like a man who would appreciate facts when they were presented, but you knew the last few days had to have been extremely emotionally taxing for him with the loss of his father and the inheritance of a kingdom. There was no guarantee he would listen to you. But if anyone could and would get you to Siberia, it would be T’Challa, especially if you promised him vengeance for his father’s murder.

The door to the office opened once more. T’Challa stepped into the room. It was odd seeing him in civilian clothing, even though he continued to wear all black like his Black Panther habit. His security chief, a woman with a shaved head who wore a stern look, stepped in the room behind him. You glanced from her to T’Challa. “I’m not going to talk unless I can talk to you alone,” you stated. The women scoffed audibly. T’Challa looked at the woman and waved her out, with a slight nod. She bowed her head crossing her arms in an “X” across her chest before exiting the room.

You gestured to the seat across from you. T’Challa strode over to it, his footsteps soundless. He took a seat and folded his hands in front of him, giving you his full attention.

“Your Highness,” you greeted. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

He nodded, “You were ready to talk. My only question is why did you wish to speak with me and only me?”

“I have information regarding the murder of your father, King T’Chaka.”

T’Challa’s face remained neutral; he said nothing.

“Information that proves the innocence of Sergeant James Barnes.”

His eyebrow raised slightly.

You reached down toward your boot, “If I may?”

T’Challa nodded, knowing full well you were of little threat to him in your current situation and he could easily overpower you. You pulled the phone from your boot and opened the file regarding Zemo. You placed it on the table and slid it toward him. He picked it up and scrolled through the photos and documents.

“The man who bombed the Accords Summit in Vienna is Colonel Helmut Zemo. No doubt you will recognize him as the person who the Task Force assumed was the UN-designated psychiatrist sent to evaluate James. He’s a Sokovian national and former leader of a Sokovian intelligence special forces unit. He framed and used James to acquire information regarding the other Winter Soldiers’ whereabouts.”

He looked at you in slight surprise. “Others?”

You nodded, “Yes, others. There are five of them. All enhanced with the late Howard Stark’s version of Dr. Erskine’s super-soldier serum used to make Captain America. They are stronger, faster, more unpredictable, and much more aggressive than the Winter Soldier you witnessed yesterday. So much so that HYDRA put them all in cryo-freeze until they could find a more effective way to control them after they rebelled against their handlers. Zemo means to wake them and use them to, as he put it, ‘see an empire fall’. His actual target remains unclear.”

T’Challa continued to scroll through the photos. “And you are disclosing all of this...”

“James is completely innocent of everything the Task Force accused him of. I am the only person who can corroborate his alibi, but my being his...” you paused unsure of how to label yourself, “significant other makes me a less than credible witness...Also, I believe that even if confronted with this new information, they will not act on it and continue to go after James as the only suspect despite evidence to the contrary. The politics surrounding the Accords would get in the way of the distribution of true justice.”

T’Challa nodded slightly and pushed the phone back toward you. He pressed his fingertips together in front of him. “What are your terms?”

You leaned forward, folding your arms in front of you. “I give you the location of Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes so you can seek vengeance upon Zemo for your father’s murder. In exchange, I want to go with you as well as all of my and Bucky’s belongings returned to me.” T’Challa mulled over your offer for a few moments. “I made a promise, Your Highness, and I don’t ever break my promises.”

T’Challa remained silent for a while, before standing up. He moved toward the door. You hung your head, trying to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You had completely misread the situation. You had no more aces to play.

“Come,” he said, opening the door, “There is much to discuss.”

~*~*~*~

**T’Challa’s Quinjet. Somewhere Over Russia. May 2016.**

You and T’Challa flew over the barren wasteland of Northern Siberia. The gray and rocky landscape stretched on for miles in each direction. Light snow fell from the sky. Flurries blew in all sorts of directions from the wind that whipped across the tundra.

Leaving the JCTC Facility had been easier than expected. T’Challa announced to the Secretary of State and Task Force staff that since you refused to give up Steve’s and Bucky’s whereabouts, he was going to have you transported to Wakanda immediately, hoping some time in a Wakandan prison would loosen your tongue. Due to T’Challa’s continued cooperation with the Task Force, Secretary Ross and Deputy Task Force Commander Ross allowed it, with the stipulation that should you agree to talk they be notified immediately. T’Challa had agreed to their terms. After having his staff collect your and Bucky’s gear, you and he boarded a Quinjet and headed off toward Siberia.

On the way, you gave T’Challa an overview of Bucky’s captivity with HYDRA, emphasizing the conditioning and memory wipes he had been subjected to over the past 70 years. You informed him of his defection from HYDRA and your time spent together over the last two years, trying to piece together his memories and attempts to find some sort of healing. T’Challa was mostly silent, interrupting only a few times to ask clarifying questions.

At the end of your story, he sighed, shaking his head, “I have let the need to avenge my father cloud my judgment, and for that, I apologize. It seems your partner and my father were both victims of someone else’s machinations.”

You nodded, “Thank you, Your Highness. And, I am truly sorry about what happened to your father. He cared for his country and people a great deal; compassion makes for a great leader.”

He gave you a small smile, “Enkosi...and call me T’Challa.” _(Thank you.)_

You nodded, “Sure thing, T’Challa.”

“Also, what did you call me yesterday? When we were transported to the JCTC Facility?” he asked, curiously.

“Oh! Uhhh...” you said sheepishly, “I called you _motănel_. It’s a Romanian term meaning ‘little tomcat’.”

He chuckled, “It’s somewhat fitting.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**HYDRA Siberian Facility. Russia. May 2016.**

T’Challa easily landed his Quinjet on the frozen mountain top plateau a few yards away from The Avengers’ Quinjet and a caterpillar truck. You readied your guns, placing them in your thigh holsters after checking them over. You returned your spare magazines and taser disks to their appropriate jacket pockets. As you tied your hair into a ponytail, T’Challa handed you a new pair of boots.

“Completely sound absorbent,” he said, “We may need the element of surprise if the other five soldiers have been awakened.”

You took the boots and placed them on your feet. At first, they appeared too big, but as you strapped the laces down, they shrunk conforming to the exact shape of your foot. “What the-'' you gasped. You laced the other boot; it immediately shrank down molding to your foot. You stood up and took a few steps. Your footsteps didn’t echo off the metal walls of the Quinjet. You smiled; Bucky would love this. You looked at T’Challa as he placed his helmet on his head. “How?”

He chuckled, “I’ll explain later.”

“Alright then keep your secrets,” you shook your head, patting down your pockets making sure everything was in its proper place. You cocked the Sig, “Now, let’s go get this son of bitch.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


You and T’Challa made your way soundlessly through the HYDRA facility. Your gun raised, on high alert for any incoming attacks. You followed T’Challa; since he was enhanced, he could hear the voices of three people ahead. However, he was unable to make out who they belonged to.

You neared the end of a hallway which led into a cavernous room. Multiple voices echoed off the walls. You and T’Challa stood on either side of the metal doors, keeping out of sight. You peeked around. The room was massive. The ceiling towered over hundreds of feet. Six glass pods illuminated by a sickly yellow light spewed some type of smoke or vapor out of the tops. In the middle of the room stood the ominous black spindly machine you had seen in the Winter Soldier mission briefing logs, The Memory Suppression Machine. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of it. Anger raged inside of you to see that monstrosity still standing after all this time.

_When this is all over, I am going to destroy that horrid thing once and for all. Never again will it wipe anyone’s mind._

You heard a voice come over the intercom.

**“** _**Oh, I’m sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you’d never know why you came.”** _

You recognized that voice, the doctor, Zemo. Your grip tightened on your gun; your mouth sat in a hard line. You wanted nothing more than to make him pay for what he had done. But, what was Tony doing here? Then it dawned on you; the upload that had popped on his phone must have been visible on any and all of his other devices. You exhaled a small sigh of relief. Maybe now that Tony and T’Challa knew the truth, this whole mess could be cleared up. You and Bucky could finally return to the chalet in Austria, your home, to live in peace.

Glancing around the doorframe once more, you noticed Bucky, Steve, and Tony facing Zemo who had barricaded himself in a chamber behind thick plexiglass. He and Steve looked to be in deep conversation. Tony appeared to be hanging on every word; he deactivated his helmet as he took in the room. You watched Bucky slowly make his way around the monstrous machine that had stolen his memories, his light machine gun at ready. You couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling. He was probably teetering on the verge of a panic attack. Wanting to scream, or vomit, or both. You made a move to reveal yourself, but T’Challa stilled you with a wave of his hand. You sighed sharply through your nose, turning your attention back to the room.

“What is this?” Tony called out. He and Steve had gathered around a screen at the other end of the room. Head bowed, Bucky stood off to the side; he lowered his gun. You couldn’t make out the images. Then you heard it.

“ ** _Help my wife...Please...Help.”_ **

“Oh no,” you breathed, “no, no, no, no.”

“What is it?” T’Challa whispered.

**_"Sergeant Barnes?!"_ **

You ignored him; he would find out soon enough. “James,” you said lowly. “James, I am here.” Bucky picked up his head and turned towards the door slightly. “Don’t move, just listen to me. None of this is your fault. Okay?... None of what you did is your fault.” You felt a tear slide down your cheek.

**_"Howard!"_ **

“But, I need you to be prepared.”Your voice almost broke. “Stark lets his emotions control his actions. He _will_ lash out in some way. If he attacks you and Steve, the chest reactor powers the suit.”

**_"HOWARD!"_ **

“Disable it if you can. He won’t be able to take you and Steve on without his armor.” You watched Bucky give a slight nod.

Sounds of a struggle came from the monitor and then it was over. The video ended and the screen flickered with TV static, white noise. Tony stood still in stunned silence at the horror he just witnessed. Steve’s body tensed; his shoulders moved up and down with deep breaths, trying to anticipate Tony’s next move.

You swallowed, feeling that your heart may burst out of your chest, “I love you so much, James. So fucking much. Inima mea îți aparține; remember that, please.” _(My heart is yours.)_ You tried to blink away the tears that had yet to fall from your eyes.

A beat passed.

Tony lunged toward Bucky, only to be stopped by Steve, grabbing his arm. Bucky took a step back, raising his gun slightly but didn’t aim. You inhaled sharply, the grip on your gun growing ever tighter. You eyed T’Challa. His gaze never left Zemo.

_The Avengers. That was the empire Zemo was referring to._

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?” You heard Tony say through clenched teeth. You turned back and watched Steve nod an affirmative. Tony stepped back in shock, turning away from Steve. You observed the slight twitch in his hands and jaw.

“Ah fuck,” you intoned.

All at once, Tony re-engaged his Iron Man helmet and swung at Steve, knocking him across the room. Bucky aimed his weapon at Tony, but it was blown out of his hands by Tony’s palm repulsor. Bucky engaged Tony in a fistfight using his metal arm which Tony caught with ease. You observed Zemo disappear from the control room bunker. Tony and Bucky exchanged a few blows before Tony grabbed him by the throat. They took off flying across the room out of your line of sight.

You made to enter the room once more, but T’Challa grabbed your arm. “Let me go, motănel.” You attempted to wrench your arm from his grip.

“You won’t be able to help them,” T’Challa hissed.

“I can try,” you said sharply, attempting once more to escape his grasp.

“And if you get hurt?”

“I don’t care if-”

“How would Barnes feel about that?”

You stilled your movements. Your breathing was ragged; you squeezed your eyes shut. You knew he was right.

“Come,” T’Challa said, releasing his hold on you. He turned. “We can’t let him get away.” He took off down the hallway with soundless steps.

You leaned against the cold metal wall, chest heaving. A few whimpers of distress escaped your lips as you fought your instincts to try and save those you loved. You told Bucky you would try to keep your distance to not engage unless absolutely necessary.

Clangs of metal striking metal and the whine of repulsors echoed from the room. You were no match for Tony, especially in his current state of mind. You exhaled sharply before bolting down the hall after T’Challa as the roar of an explosion rang out down the hallway causing the walls to shake slightly.

You ran soundlessly down the hallway back the way you and T’Challa had come. Zemo had no other means of escape, only the caterpillar truck he used to get here. Unless he decided to hijack one of the Quinjets. You ran up the stairs toward the exit, gun raised, and at the ready.

You flew through the large metal doors, almost smashing right into T’Challa. He stood still in the doorway. He put a finger to lips and pointed.

Zemo sat in the snow with a phone to his ear. He looked small, almost defeated. T’Challa removed his helmet and silently walked toward the man. You followed close behind, aiming your gun at the back of Zemo’s head. Your finger hovered over the trigger. You wanted him to face justice, but if he died here either by T’Challa’s hand or your own, you didn’t think you would much care.

As T’Challa drew closer, he set his helmet down in the snow. His vibranium claws gleamed in the weak sunlight that sporadically pierced the thick cloud cover. “I almost killed the wrong man,” he stated, moving into Zemo’s line of sight. You stayed behind Zemo, the shoes on your feet masked the sound of your steps in the snow. If he tried anything, you would be ready for him.

“Hardly an innocent one,” Zemo replied looking at his phone. Your eyes narrowed as you stepped closer. T’Challa’s eyes cut to you and gave you a small head shake. Your mouth sat in a hard line, your lips disappearing between your teeth.

T’Challa stepped closer to Zemo. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, “To see them rip each other apart.”

Zemo fiddled with his phone once more before letting it fall to the ground at his feet. He stared off into the distance, moving his elbows to sit on his knees. A flash of silver caught your attention; he gripped a gun loosely in his hands. You nodded to T’Challa and pointed to the gun. He nodded back.

Zemo sighed, “My father lived outside the city. I thought we would be safe there. My son was excited. He could see the Iron Man from the car window. I told my wife, ‘Don't worry. They are fighting in the city. We're miles from harm’.” It occurred to you that he was talking about the Ultron Offensive in Sokovia. You lowered your gun slightly. “When the dust cleared...and the screaming stopped. It took me two days until I found their bodies.”

You caught your breath; it seemed you and Zemo had similar shared experiences. Both of you had lost loved ones in tragic circumstances. Both of you had obsessed over finding ways to avenge them, to make their deaths mean something. But, you had not turned to killing, unlike him. The only person’s death you were responsible for was in self-defense. You gripped your gun a little tighter, aiming at him once more. You weren’t about to let your guard down around him again.

“My father...still holding my wife and son in his arms.” He paused, swallowing hard. “And the Avengers? They went home. I knew I couldn't kill them. More powerful men than me have tried. But, if I could get them to kill each other...” He looked at T’Challa and nodded slightly. “I'm sorry about your father. He seemed a good man. With a dutiful son.”

T’Challa’s stance relaxed, “Vengeance has consumed you. It's consuming them.” He sighed and retracted his claws into his gloves. “I am done letting it consume me...Justice will come soon enough.”

Zemo chuckled thinly, “Tell that to the dead.” He quickly moved his gun under his chin and fired a shot. However, T’Challa’s reflexes allowed his hand to reach out and cover the barrel of the gun. The bullet bounced off his vibranium gloves. You jumped back in surprise nearly firing off a shot of your own.

T’Challa gripped Zemo in a headlock, “The living are not done with you yet.” He looked back at you. “There are restraints in the jet.”

You looked from Zemo back to T’Challa. Your gun still aimed at Zemo’s head. Despite his loss, after all he had done, did he deserve to live? He had murdered dozens of people. He had torn the Avengers apart from the inside, causing irreparable damage. He had framed and used Bucky for his own gain; something that you swore would never happen again. Your hand shook. The anger that brimmed inside you threatened to spill over, burning everything in its path. You swallowed hard, adjusting the grip on your gun. You could end this here and now.

“Y/N...” T’Challa said lowly.

You locked eyes with Zemo, he silently goaded you into pulling the trigger. Death was what he wanted. Such a small penance for the pain and chaos he had wrought. If you pulled the trigger, you would be no better than him. And he knew it. After all he had done, you were not about to give him what he wanted. You lowered your gun and shoved it into your thigh holster. T’Challa’s face relaxed. Zemo’s face twisted in anger; he struggled in T’Challa’s hold.

You retrieved the restraints from the jet. When you came back, you noticed Zemo was no longer struggling. His eyes were closed; his breathing was even.

T’Challa laid him back against the rocks, “He wouldn’t stop.” You nodded minutely and handed him the restraints. He clapped the restraints around Zemo’s ankles and wrists then hauled him over his shoulder and carried him into the jet, further restraining him into a seat.

“You got this?” you asked. T’Challa nodded. “Good,” you moved down the jet’s ramp. “I’m going to find Steve and Bucky.”

“Y/N!” He called after you.

“Wait for us, okay?” you shouted over your shoulder as you sprinted back into the bunker.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


You picked your way through piles of twisted metal and concrete. The Memory Suppression Machine had been destroyed, smashed to pieces by debris that had fallen during the explosion you had heard. At least one good thing had come out of this.

You followed the sounds of metallic clangs and repulsor blasts. Making your way down a narrow corridor into a tower resembling a silo, you heard Tony’s voice below. You made your way down into the silo using a rusted metal staircase. As you carefully made your descent, you heard continued scuffling, followed by a loud thud. You crouched behind a wall leading to an opening that led out onto the mountainside. The wind whipped past the openings through the concrete pillars, causing a constant low howl. You peeked around the wall. Bucky lay on the floor, battered and bloodied. His metal arm was missing. Wires and shards of metal hung loosely from the stump. It still smoldered like it had been blown off. Tony’s back was to you. He stood in front of Steve as he lay on the floor.

“Stay down. Final warning,” Tony ordered.

You watched as Bucky slowly crawled towards Tony. A bloodied Steve struggled to his feet. His gait was weary, but the look in his eyes was not. He put up his fists like a boxer. “I can do this all day,” he panted. Tony raised his hand to fire but was startled by Bucky grabbing his leg. He swiftly turned around and kicked Bucky in the face, knocking him backward.

Without thinking, you moved from your hiding spot, not registering Steve lifting Tony over his head and slamming him into the concrete floor. You quickly made your way down the metal ladder towards Bucky. You heard Steve’s punches against Tony’s armor as you knelt by Bucky’s side. You brought his head into your lap, stroking his hair. Metallic clangs continued to ring out and echo off the walls.

“Doll?” he groaned, blinking up at you blearily.

“Shhhh,” you soothed. “It’s okay.”

One more loud metallic bang rebounded off the wall and then all was silent.

You turned and looked toward Steve and Tony. Panting heavily, Steve struggled to his feet. He wrenched his shield from the reactor core of Tony’s suit. It gave a slight whine and began to flicker, losing power. He looked at you and nodded. You moved your legs out from under Bucky’s head, grabbing his arm to help him sit up. Steve moved to your side and hauled Bucky up to his feet, throwing his arm around his shoulder. You glanced back at Tony as the three of you made your way toward the ladder, he stared at you icily; his helmet had been ripped off and lay in pieces on the floor.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you,” he spat. Steve ignored him. “You don’t deserve it!” The three of you stopped.

“ **MY FATHER MADE THAT SHIELD!”**

You looked at Steve. With a sigh, he nodded slightly then dropped his shield to the ground with a loud metallic thud.

The three of you made your way up and out of the silo in silence. Tony made no move to follow you; although, you constantly checked over your shoulder to see if he would.

It wasn’t until you made your way to the exit staircase that Steve spoke to you. “How did you get here, Y/N?”

The three of you slowly ascended the staircase. “I came with T’Challa,” you replied.

Steve balked and Bucky eyed you curiously. “T’Challa?” Bucky croaked.

You nodded. “I’ll give you all the details later,” you assured them. “We need to get out of here.” Bucky and Steve nodded as you made your way out of the bunker.

You were happy to see that T’Challa had waited for you; your and Bucky’s gear laid at his feet. You smiled as the three of you made your way towards him. “Your highness,” Steve greeted. Bucky nodded to him but said nothing.

“You still have Zemo?” you asked T’Challa.

He nodded. “He won’t be going anywhere anytime soon,” he assured. He turned to Bucky. “Sergeant Barnes, I want to apologize for all that has happened over the past few days.” He gestured to you. “Y/N discovered the truth and made me see that we had all been manipulated.” Bucky flashed you a weak signature smirk. “She also informed me of everything HYDRA put you through. As a way to express my gratitude and to make amends, I want to offer you my assistance.” You looked at T’Challa curiously. He smiled. “I know someone in Wakanda that may be able to remove the Winter Soldier programming.”

You gasped.

“Son of bitch,” Steve whispered lowly.

Bucky looked at you and Steve then back to T’Challa. “Your Highness, you don’t know how much that would mean to me. If you could do that, I...we...” he looked at you once more, “would be forever in your debt.”

Your eyes pricked with tears, you felt a huge grin spread across your face. “How, motănel?” you asked.

“A good question. For a later time,” he remarked. “I will deliver Zemo to the Task Force in Berlin and then return home to take my place as king. Once all that is complete, I will be in touch.”

The three of you nodded. You gave T’Challa your encrypted email address and slung the go-bags over your shoulder. Steve and Bucky said their goodbyes and made their way toward the Quinjet. You turned to T’Challa, “Thank you, T’Challa, for everything.”

He nodded. “It’s been a pleasure, Y/N,” he turned toward his jet, “I will see you in Wakanda soon.”

“Can’t wait,” you replied, waving goodbye as you walked to the Quinjet. As you ascended the ramp, you watched T’Challa take off and fly southeast toward Berlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> We're in the end game now. 
> 
> I'm thinking there may be one chapter left, possibly two depending on the length, we shall see. 
> 
> Please continue to comment and leave kudos if you are enjoying the story!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning Quote: Obi-Wan Kenobi - Return of the Jedi
> 
> Music listened to while writing this chapter: Captain America: Civil War Score


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit longer than most I think, but it's the final full chapter. There will be a short epilogue and then epiphany will be officially complete. 
> 
> Don't worry, I have another part of this story planned; so be on the lookout for that real soon.

  
  


**_“Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.”_ **

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**The Avengers’ Quinjet. Somewhere Over Russia. May 2016.**

The New Avengers’ Quinjet resembled the old Quinjet. Clint told you that Bruce as the Hulk had taken the old jet after the Ultron Offensive and disappeared. No one had heard from him since then or Thor, for that matter. The only difference between the two jets were the labels on the lockers: Rogers, Romanoff, Maximoff, Wilson, Rhodes, and Vision. Bucky sat on the table in the middle of the jet. Steve stood in the cockpit, firing up the engines. The jet shook slightly as it lifted off the ground, leaving Tony and Siberia behind.

You weren’t sure how Tony would get back to civilization. But, something told you he would survive. You understood Tony’s anger towards Bucky and Steve. He felt betrayed and was well within his right to feel that way. His unwillingness to listen to an explanation was reasonable too, but the fact that his immediate reaction to resort to violence was not.

You sat down the go-bags, stripping off your Tactical Jacket. Despite the frigid temperature outside, you were covered in a thin layer of sticky sweat. Walking over to Bucky, you noticed his thumb and forefinger circled one another as he stared off into space. You gently took his hand and squeezed it. He pulled his gaze away from the wall to your face. “Hey, Sarge.”

“Hey, doll,” he replied, giving you a small smile.

You pushed the hair out of his face and inspected the damage Tony had inflicted. “You look pretty beat up,” you said playfully. “I can help you if you want me too.”

Bucky chuckled at the reference to the first time you met. He nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

You reached into the drawers under the table, pulling out the antiseptic wash, gauze, and a suture kit just in case. Standing between Bucky’s knees, you carefully cleaned the blood from his wounds. His eyes followed your movements and took in your appearance. His fingertips grazed the cut on your lip. They brushed the bruises on your face and arms and the small burn on your chest from the taser disk. His hand found your hip and traced circles there with his thumb. The warmth of his touch comforted you. His presence and touch had always been a balm for your nerves. Once clean, you inspected his wounds, “Well, despite getting kicked in the head by Iron Man, you don’t need any stitches.” Bucky chuckled as you gently spread antibiotic ointment on some of his worst cuts.

Steve stepped down into the main cabin from the cockpit. “I put the jet in stealth mode and set the autopilot,” he said, removing his helmet and gloves. He placed them in his locker.

“Where are we headed?” you asked. You helped Bucky remove his jacket. He had been hit with some arc repulsor blasts, and you wanted to make sure he didn’t have any burns. The one Sam had received earlier in the day looked painful. You lifted his shirt and began inspecting his torso. Thankfully, his jacket seemed to have taken the brunt of the blasts. You made a mental note to thank Natasha if you ever saw her again.

“That’s what I wanted to ask the both of you,” he said, moving to stand next to you and Bucky.

Bucky eyed him curiously. You turned to Steve, noticing the cuts and dried blood crusted on his face. You frowned. “Sit down, Specimen,” you said, gesturing to a nearby stool. “Lemme take a look at those cuts.”

“Oh no, sweetheart, that’s okay,” Steve said, shaking his head, “I’m fine.”

You gave him an impatient look crossing your arms across your chest and tapped your foot.

“Better do what she says, punk,” Bucky chuckled. “She’s very stubborn.”

Steve sighed and sat on the stool resignedly. “It’s not like I don’t have regenerative healing abilities, jerk,” he muttered.

“Oh hush, Rogers,” you said, grabbing a new gauze pad and antiseptic wash. “Your all-mighty healing abilities won’t clean your face off.” Bucky chortled. You set to work cleaning his cuts.

“What did you want to ask us?” Bucky asked.

Steve winced as you prodded one of his deeper cuts on his cheekbone. “Well, we need a place to lay low so we can plan our next move. You two were on the run for two years; no one could find you.” He looked at you and then to Bucky. “If anyone knows a good place to hide, it’s you two.”

You capped the top of the antibiotic ointment, looking to Bucky. You knew where you wanted to go, but you wanted to hear his ideas first.

He met your eyes with a smile; his eyes shone with excitement. “We could go home, doll.”

Your smile grew so big your cheeks started to ache. You nodded your head voraciously. Tears pricked your eyes at the thought. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go home.”

Steve cocked an eyebrow. “Where’s home?” he asked.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. May 2016.**

Steve landed the Quinjet with ease next to the chalet. The jet’s stealth mode and reflective paneling made your arrival go unnoticed by the valley town below. As the ramp descended, you stepped out, taking in your surroundings.

Spring had arrived in the Alps. The snowmelt formed small rivers that flowed down the mountainside in tiny temporary waterfalls. The vibrant green grass swayed and danced in the warm breeze. Patches of Edelweiss flowers dotted the overlook. You took a deep breath; the fresh mountain air filled your lungs, carrying the scent of pine, damp earth, and snow. All was quiet save for the breeze brushing against the leaves of the trees and the chime of church bells from the town below. The chalet stood seemingly undisturbed. The afternoon sun reflected off the wall of picture windows. It looked as warm and inviting as ever. Home. Yours and Bucky’s home.

Bucky walked up behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist. His jaw rested against your head, his nose in your hair. “Welcome home, doll,” he whispered in your ear, placing a kiss on your temple.

“It’s good to be home,” you breathed, placing your hand over his own.

Steve joined the two of you and gave a low whistle as he took in the surrounding landscape, resting his hands on his utility belt in awe. “This is where you stayed all that time?”

“Not the whole time, unfortunately,” you said, leaning back against Bucky’s chest.

Bucky nodded, “Probably would’a stayed here if not for Ultron. Clint advised us to move locations just in case ours had been compromised after it went through all your files.” He moved to your side, taking the Sig Sauer from your thigh holster. You cocked it for him then took out your other pistol and handed it to Steve.

He eyed you questioningly, hesitantly taking it.

You opened the notebook filled with the access codes. “Standard procedure,” you said to Steve. “We always sweep and clear before we just wander into a safehouse.”

Bucky nodded, “Most likely no one has been here, but we can’t take any chances.” He moved toward the garage. “We run into any trouble, make for the jet.” You and Steve nodded, following him.

You punched in the access code for the garage door and then for the door entering the chalet. Steve and Bucky moved in to do the security sweep. You stayed outside, keeping watch. A few moments passed before you heard Bucky’s voice from deep inside the house. “All clear, doll.” You closed the garage door before walking inside.

A thin layer of dust had settled over the floor and furniture, and the chalet smelled a tad musty. You made for the windows in the living room. Throwing open the curtains, you slid the windows open, allowing the fresh mountain breeze to fill the space. The sunlight illuminated the keyboard piano that sat on the coffee table. You smiled as you ran your hand over the smooth black and white keys. Bucky and Steve walked back into the main room, placing their weapons on the kitchen counter.

“Everything look okay?” you asked joining them.

“All quiet. Just as we left it,” Bucky said, pulling some glasses out of the cabinet. You reached into another cabinet and pulled out a half-full bottle of whiskey and uncorked it. You handed it to Bucky who poured you each a finger of whiskey and passed them out.

You leaned back against the counter and downed the whiskey in one gulp. After the events of the past 24 hours, you needed it. Honestly, you weren’t sure how much time had passed or what day it was. The days seemed to blur together. You poured yourself another glass, swirling the amber liquid around before looking back up. Steve looked shocked; his drink remained untouched in his hand. Upon witnessing his reaction, Bucky just laughed and took a sip of his whiskey.

“What?” you asked innocently, taking a swig of your drink.

“I don’t think Stevie has ever seen a woman shoot whiskey like that before, doll,” Bucky said with a smirk, pointing to Steve.

You looked to Steve who took a big swig of his own whiskey to hide his embarrassment. You chuckled with a shrug, “Perks of being raised in the mountains by an ex-Marine whose idea of reducing stress was eating steak and drinking whiskey, Specimen.” You downed the rest of your drink, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You sat the glass in the sink. “C’mon fellas, let’s grab our stuff out of the jet. I feel a soak callin’ my name and then we can discuss future plans over dinner,” you called over your shoulder as you walked toward the backdoor.

Steve looked to Bucky. Bucky chuckled and downed the rest of his whiskey, “Don’t look at me, punk. You’re in her territory now; while we’re here she’s in charge.” He followed you out.

“Ya damn right,” called as you made your way down the steps of the terrace.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


The sun began to set as you relaxed in the bathtub. Steam rose off the warm water as you twirled your fingers along its surface. The ripples from your movements blurred the bruises on your body. You had taken a beating over the past 48 hours; your body ached all over. The heat of the water eased the tension in your muscles and your mind. You had almost dozed off when you heard the door open.

“Doll?” Bucky called softly.

“Come on in, Sarge,” you said. 

Bucky moved toward the tub, taking a seat on the vanity stool next to it. Gauze and duct tape had been wrapped around what was left of his metal arm to cushion the exposed wires and shards of metal. You folded your arms on the side of the tub, resting your chin on them. You nodded to his arm, “Nice patch job.”

He looked at his arm and chuckled, “Duct tape is magic and should be worshiped.”

He eyed the bruises on your body and frowned. You offered him a small smile, “I would say I’ve looked worse, but that’s not true.”

He sighed sadly, “I’m sorry, doll.”

“It’s not your doing.” Your gaze traveled up and down his body. He looked tired but relieved. For now, it seemed, the fighting was over and you were grateful for that. You sighed, “I’m sorry for leaving you and Steve to go after T’Challa at the airport. I know I said I would try and keep my distance, but-”

Bucky shook his head, “S’okay, doll. You made the right call.” He smiled. “I’m glad you made it to the bunker though.” His steel-blue eyes found yours; there was a hint of sadness behind them. “...I don’t think I would have fought Stark at all...had you not been there.”

You nodded solemnly; your heart ached for him. “Me too...” Your gaze moved to the window, the sun had just disappeared behind the mountains. The last rays of light made their way into the bathroom. Motes of dust swirled in the air. You were silent for a moment before speaking again. “I almost killed him...Zemo...He just...he killed so many people. Caused so much chaos and pain. Worst of all, he used you...I was so angry...furious at all he had done...but, I knew if I killed him, then I would just like him...” You turned your gaze back to Bucky, “and the fact that I was willing to do so, even for the slightest moment...it frightens me.” Your vision blurred as tears spilled down your cheeks. You closed your eyes and took a shuddering breath to try and calm down. You heard Bucky move off the stool and kneel next to the tub. His hand cupped your face, gently, brushing your tears away with his thumb. You leaned into his touch.

“It’s okay to be afraid...we have each other.” He kissed your forehead. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m so grateful to have you...to be with you...to love you. You remind me why I’m still here. You’re the best person I know.” You nodded after a few moments.

You pulled away to look Bucky in the eye; he had shed a few tears of his own. You tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “Better not let Steve hear you say that,” you said with a small smile, “he might get jealous.”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “Eh, what Stevie doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

You breathed a laugh. Your fingers traced his strong brow to his cheekbone. You pulled him in for a kiss, which he readily reciprocated. His soft lips moved tenderly against your own. Your tongues gently explored each other’s mouths. “I love you too, James,” you said when you eventually pulled away, “so much it almost hurts.”

“I know,” he flashed you his signature smirk before kissing you once more. “Now, outta the tub, doll. I’m gonna need help washin’ my hair now that I only have one arm.”

You rolled your eyes, “Well, at least you still got one good arm to hold me with, Virgil Earp. Now, hand me that towel and I’ll go get changed.” Bucky chuckled and started the shower, stepping out of his shoes and pants.

“Ya know, it would just be easier for you to join me,” he said huskily. His eyes raked over your form, as you stood. Beads of water ran down your skin and caught the rays of fading sunlight, making your skin sparkle. His intense gaze met yours. His eyes had darkened slightly with lust.

Your breathing hitched as you stepped out of the tub. Your heart fluttered as you stepped toward him. Helping him remove his tank top, you ran your hands up his chest and said, “All you had to do was ask.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


You, Bucky, and Steve sat around the dining table, munching on chips, cookies, dried fruit, and protein bars. Sam had apparently amassed quite a stash of snacks hidden around the Quinjet. A habit Steve was sure he picked up from Tony. All of you had showered and dressed in fresh clothes. You were glad you had thought to leave behind some in the anticipation that you and Bucky would return one day.

For now, your laptop stood open as you scrolled through the files from Tony’s phone regarding Zemo. You explained the findings to both men and how you had managed to convince T’Challa that you were telling the truth.

“Where did the Task Force take the others after the incident at the airport?” Steve asked.

You sat back in your chair, nursing a cup of tea. “They transported them to someplace called The Raft shortly after we arrived at the JCTC Facility. I think it is some sort of high-security prison.”

Steve nodded, “I know it. It was detailed in the Accords.”

“They had everyone restrained pretty heavily and took all their gear. They even put Wanda in a straight jacket and electric shock collar,” you said bitterly.

“Are you fucking serious?” Bucky asked incredulously.

You nodded solemnly. “Do you know where this prison is, Steve?”

Steve shook his head, “No, but I know someone who does.”

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**The Raft. The Atlantic Ocean. May 2016.**

Using Tony’s phone, after you disabled the GPS and any elements that could be tracked, Steve contacted Natasha. Bucky informed you she had stopped T’Challa by using her Widow Bites allowing them to get away. Natasha gave Steve the Raft coordinates and in return, he gave her the location of the chalet safehouse. Because she let Steve and Bucky go, she was on the run now as well due to her violation of The Accords. She wouldn’t give Steve up, and Steve wouldn’t give her up. And, her actions at the airport had earned your trust. Besides, there was plenty of room in the chalet.

The Quinjet bounced up and down through the thick cloud cover. The plan was to have Bucky get the jet as close to the Raft as possible, allowing you and Steve to enter the prison before immediately taking off again so your means of transportation would not be compromised if things went south. You and Steve would infiltrate the prison, taking out as many guards as possible. Then you would use their computer system to locate Sam, Scott, Clint, and Wanda and unlock the necessary doors.

You grabbed a set of electroshock bracers from Natasha’s locker and clasped them around your wrists. You didn’t want to use your guns if you didn’t have to, and you had grown rather fond of your taser disks. You made sure your Rubber Ducky was in your jacket pocket, you would use it to easily hack into the computer system.

“We are on approach,” Bucky called out from the cockpit. You and Steve slipped comms in your ears so you could keep in contact with the jet. Bucky lowered the ramp of the Quinjet. Fat raindrops pinged off the metal. “You better take care’a my girl, punk,” he warned playfully, “she can be a little reckless.” You shook your head with a smile.

“Should’a known better, jerk,” Steve chuckled. “I’m as reckless as they come.”

“Don’t I know it.”

“You’d be a fool if you didn’t.”

“Gods, do I need to leave you two alone?” you teased.

Bucky laughed heartily. Steve shook his head, beckoning you over to him as he walked to the end of the ramp. “Hold on tight,” he said as he readied his grappling hook. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you in tightly. “Keep it steady, Buck.”

“Just try not to fall into the ocean,” Bucky retorted.

“See you soon, Sarge,” you called out.

“Give ‘em hell, doll.”

You and Steve walked nonchalantly off the ramp and plummeted toward the slick surface of the ocean prison below. Your grip tightened on Steve’s neck; a serious sense of deja vu washed over you. He fired the hook at the Quinjet ramp. It latched on with a jerk, but your descent slowed and became controlled. Much easier than the time when you and Bucky had run out the window at the Triskelion. When you reached the surface, Steve detached the cable easily. “We’re away,” he said. “Keep a sharp eye out and wait for our signal.”

“Copy that,” Bucky replied as he flew off.

You and Steve dashed for the entrance. You would need the element of surprise if this was going to work. Natasha had told you how to get to the control room. The hard part was getting past the guards that patrolled the hallways. The boots T’Challa gave you masked your footsteps. Steve’s, however, echoed off the metal walls. Practically, giving away your position to all of the guards nearby.

You turned the corner and were immediately met by four patrol officers. Steve took out the first two with ease, punching them in the jaw knocking them out cold. You shot one with a taser disk from your borrowed Widow’s Bite watching him fall to the ground convulsing.

“ _ Oh my, I just may keep these.” _

The remaining officer grabbed you from behind. Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you kicked off the ground then used gravity to flip him forward over your back. He landed at Steve’s feet where he was met with a punch to the jaw.

“Nice work,” Steve said as he helped you up.

“I had a good teacher,” you replied with a smile before sprinting down the hallway.

The hallways were clear the rest of the way to the control room. You and Steve slowed to stop outside the door. He looked through the small window at the occupants inside before turning to you. “I’ll take out the guards; you get to a computer.”

“Copy that,” you nodded.

Steve kicked down the door and rushed into the room, taking out two guards before the other three could register what had happened. You ran up behind the one seated at the computer, jamming your electrically charged fists into his neck. He shook as the electricity coursed through him before slumping in his seat. You pushed him off the chair with your foot. You heard sounds of scuffling as Steve incapacitated the other two guards as you plugged the Rubber Ducky into the USB port. You quickly searched through the files for your friends’ location. “Got it. Level 8. Cell Block 3. It’s two floors down.”

“Okay, I’ll head down there. Stay here and watch the cameras. I’ll swing back to you when I have everyone.”

“Can do,” you pulled up the camera footage from the cell block as Steve raced down the hallway. Everyone had been locked in their own cell. Scott sat on the floor using his stool as a drum. Sam paced back and forth. Wanda sat in the corner of her cell curled up in a ball; she stared at nothing. Clint lay on his bunk with his hands behind his head. You cued up the mic and audio. “Hey, Dad!” you said cheerfully. “Did you miss me?”

You watched as everyone perked up at the sound of your voice through the speakers.

“Y/N?” Clint asked, standing up from his bunk; he looked around.

“No, it’s Morgan Freeman,” you retorted. You heard Sam and Scott laugh and watched Clint roll his eyes. “Glad to see the Marshals didn’t rough you up too bad,” you said. They all chuckled.

“Well, we didn’t threaten the lives of our guards, unlike you,” Sam quipped.

You chuckled. “Listen, Steve is on his way to get you out of there. Then we are gonna hitch a ride outta here; so sit tight.”

Wanda stood up from her spot on the floor, “Finally,” she sighed with a small smile on her lips.

“Told you he wouldn’t leave us behind,” Sam said to no one in particular.

“Good thing too because this place was starting to get boring,” Scott quipped.

You quickly scanned the cameras leading down to their floor. “Specimen, you are all clear for now. Lemme know when you are at the cell block so I can open the door.”

“Copy that,” Steve’s voice said over the comm in your ear.

You looked back to the cell block cameras. “Wanda, I’m going to see if I can deactivate that collar from here, okay?” She nodded, “Please.” A few keystrokes later, you watched as the lights on the collar blinked out.

You had a sudden thought to search for the location of their property. You knew Scott and Sam wouldn’t want their suits in Ross’ hands. “Hey Steve,” you called, “on your way back, the floor above you has everyone’s property, including Sam’s and Scott’s suits. You might wanna swing by it on your way back up.”

“Okay, I’m outside the cellblock door,” Steve said. You unlocked the door and then moved to unlock the doors of the individual cells. The teammates greeted each other warmly as they stepped out of their cells. You watched as Steve helped Wanda out of her straight jacket and collar. They moved out of the cellblock and back down the hallway. You erased the security footage; although you were sure Secretary Ross would know who broke them out. As they approached the property room, you unlocked the door. Quickly everyone gathered their belongings before rushing out into the hallway once more.

“Swingin’ back around to get ya, sweetheart,” Steve said.

“Copy, I’ll be waiting,” you replied. “Sarge?” you called to Bucky.

“Yeah, doll,” he answered.

“We got everyone. Get ready for an evac.”

“Roger that.”

You pulled the Rubber Ducky out of the computer. You continued to watch the cameras until you heard the pounding of multiple pairs of footsteps.

You met Steve and the others out in the hallway. Clint swept you into a hug, giving you a hard squeeze before setting you down. “It’s damn good to see you,” he said, smiling at you.

“I couldn’t leave you here in Alcatraz 2.0,” you said. “Laura would have killed me.” Clint nodded with a chuckle.

Sam hugged you as well. “How was Russia?” he asked.

“Shitty,” you said. Steve chortled, nodding in agreement.

Sam looked confused. “What do you mean? Where’s Stark?”

You and Steve exchanged looks. “We’ll give you the details later. Let’s just focus on getting out of here without any issues,” you answered.

“On approach,” Bucky said over the comms. “Rendezvous two minutes.”

Steve waved everyone on. “Come on, let’s get going.”

You and your teammates sprinted down the halls and out onto the roof. As the Quinjet touched down, a squad of guards appeared and began firing their weapons. Wanda turned around, making a shield around your group as you continued to run for the jet. She then used her powers to push them back. The ramp descended as the six of you approached.

Once you were all aboard, Bucky gunned the engines and took off into the stormy skies. He activated stealth mode and the reflective panels to conceal the jet from view. Everyone spread out, finding a place to catch their breath. Wanda moved to her locker, grabbing an extra set of clothes to change into, eager to be out of her prison garb. Scott sagged into a bench tiredly after checking over his suit. Clint, Sam, and Steve were in quiet conversation; Steve filled them in on what had happened in Siberia with Tony and Zemo. You smiled softly; happy to have everyone safe. You made your way to the cockpit and stood next to Bucky, placing your hand on his shoulder. He brushed a kiss over your knuckles as he guided the jet over open water.

“Where we headed?” Bucky asked. Steve and Clint moved toward the cockpit.

“I mean it this time when I say I am officially retired,” Clint said, “I have some connections; I think I can get Scott and me a pretty good deal so we can stay with our families.”

The three of you nodded. “We can drop you off at the homestead,” Steve offered, “I’m sure Wanda would want to see Pietro. Scott can make his way home from there.”

“And I wanna meet the newest member of the Barton clan,” you added.

“Same here,” Bucky said. “I need to see my best girl too. I’ve been gone for far too long.” He gave you a wink. You laughed.

Clint nodded in agreement, with a small chuckle. “I’ll take over, Buck,” he said.

Bucky flipped a few switches before giving control to Clint. “All yours, pal.”

“I’ll give Laura a call and let her know we are on our way,” Clint said as he adjusted the controls.

“Tell her Bucky and I will love her forever if she feeds us,” you said, only half kidding. Bucky concurred with a nod to his head. 

Clint chuckled, “I’ll see what I can do.”

You, Bucky, and Steve moved back to the main cabin. Sam joined your group, having changed into a spare set of clothes. He eyed Bucky’s missing arm, lifting one eyebrow. “You get your arm cut off again, Skywalker?” he asked. 

“Haha, that’s hilarious, Bird Brain,” Bucky retorted. 

“Boys…” you warned. Steve shook his head with a snort. 

“Just so you know, Skywalker is a compliment,” Bucky said with a smirk. 

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


**The Barton Homestead. Missouri. May 2016.**

Clint easily landed the Quinjet in the field next to his farmhouse. The familiar sight of the large white house filled you with joy. You noticed five figures on the front porch eagerly awaiting the jet's arrival. Bucky took your hand and squeezed it with a smile. You bounced on your toes, eager to see everyone again.

The seven of you made your way down the dirt path once Clint had killed the engines. You noticed the five figures on the porch became four. Before you could even cock an eyebrow, Wanda squealed with delight as a lean blonde man appeared out of nowhere. He picked her up in a hug and spun her around. They immediately began conversing in their native language.

You assumed this was Pietro, Wanda’s twin brother. You felt a pang of sadness witnessing the siblings’ reunion, knowing you and Hunter would never meet like that again. Never would you be able to hug your sister again. Especially after realizing the truth about Hunter’s passing, watching the twins' interaction stung. You turned your attention away from the twins, choosing instead to focus on the three Barton children to avoid tearing up over lost moments.

As you drew closer, Cooper and Lila bolted down the front porch steps. “BUCKY! Y/N!” they called. Steve smiled as the children ran past him.

Clint looked perplexed as they flew past him straight to you and Bucky. “What am I? Chopped liver?” he asked, feigning offense.

You dropped to Cooper’s level as he collided with you, grasping you in a tight hug. “Wow, Coop!” you said when you drew back from the embrace. “You’ve gotten so big!”

He nodded voraciously. “I’ve learned so many new things about computers since I last saw you!” he exclaimed.

“Oh really?” you said, standing up. “Bet you have a few things to teach me, huh?” You ruffled his hair. He beamed up at you and took your hand, pulling you down the path.

As Lila reached Bucky, he picked her up, swinging her around into a hug with ease despite only having one arm. She squealed in delight, wrapping her arms around his neck. “How’s my best girl?” he asked, kissing her temple.

“Good!” she replied. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, ya rugrat!” he said fondly, shifting her to his hip as he walked toward the farmhouse. He fell in step beside you and Cooper as you lingered behind the others.

“Well Miss Lila,” you said, tickling her side. “Have you been keeping Cooper in check?” She nodded with a large smile. Cooper scoffed audibly. You and Bucky chuckled. It felt so good to be somewhere familiar.

As you reached the porch steps, you heard an infant screech in delight. Laura stood with Clint, Sam, and Scott, holding Nathaniel who had his hands fisted in her hair. She walked over and greeted you with a warm one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, Y/N,” she said with a smile.

“It’s good to see you too, Laura,” you replied, “I’m so sorry I dragged Clint into this mess.”

Laura shook her head as she pulled away, “Don’t be. Clint would do anything for you as would I. You’re family.” You smiled warmly. “Besides you brought him home, and that’s all that matters.”

Nathaniel let out a high pitched squeal, drawing the attention of everyone in the group. “You must be Nathaniel Pietro,” you cooed, tickling his belly lightly. The baby smiled with a happy gurgle, clapping his hands together. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Bucky sat Lila down to hug Laura. “How are you, Bucky?” she asked. She noticed his missing arm but didn’t comment on it.

He nodded with a smile, “I’m doing well.” He looked to you and held his arm out. You moved to his side, his arm encircled your waist. “Y/N’s been keeping me in check.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Dunno where I would be without her.” He gave you a slight squeeze.

Laura nodded knowingly, looking from you to Bucky with a sly smile. “Glad to see you two finally figured it out.” You and Bucky chuckled. Laura passed Nathaniel to Clint. Clint peppered kisses over the infant’s face as he walked over to Steve, Sam, and Scott to introduce them to his youngest. “How long did it take you?” she asked.

“Longer than it should have,” Bucky said; you nodded in agreement.

Laura took your hand, “I’m so happy you found one another. Everybody needs somebody.” You nodded, trying to swallow the lump forming in your throat. You didn’t want to start crying in front of everyone.

Bucky smiled, “Thanks, Laura.”

Laura looked around at everyone gathered on the porch. “Well come on, everyone. Lunch is almost ready. Lila, Cooper, will you go set the table please?”

As Clint, Scott, Sam, and Laura made their way inside, Steve beckoned you and Bucky over. He stood next to the twins who seemed to be in their own little world. “Y/N, Bucky, I wanted to introduce you to Pietro Maximoff.”

Bucky offered his hand to Pietro which he readily shook. “Pleasure to meet you, Pietro.”

“Likewise,” Pietro nodded.

“Hello Pietro,” you said with a smile, shaking his hand. “I had hoped I would meet you one day. I wanted to thank you for saving Clint back in Sokovia. He’s like family to me.”

Pietro chuckled, “He certainly didn’t see it coming. But, it was the least I could do after he helped my sister and me.” He nodded to Wanda, who nodded in agreement.

“C’mon inside, guys,” Clint called from the door. “Food’s getting cold.”

“I’m gonna eat your share, Barnes, if you don’t hurry up,” Sam shouted from inside the house.

Bucky’s eyes were murderous. “I may have one arm, but I can still kick your ass, Bird Boy,” he called back. You and Steve chuckled as you walked into the house.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


As usual, there were no leftovers when it came to Laura Barton’s cooking. Everyone sat around the table with full stomachs and contented hearts. Bucky observed his friends while Lila attempted to stick refrigerator magnets to what was left of his metal arm. Steve, Sam, and Clint chatted idly. Scott conversed with Wanda and Pietro, regarding his suit and the powers of Ant-Man. Laura was attempting to talk to Cooper about a chore he would need to finish before showing you his computer setup, but Nathaniel had grown fussy and was squirming around in her arms. She looked frazzled and at her wit’s end.

“Here, lemme take him,” you offered, holding your hands out for the infant, “I’ll go put him down.”

“You sure?” Laura asked, handing Nathaniel over.

“Absolutely,” you nodded your head, “I don’t mind. You deserve a break. Plus, it gives us time to bond.” A look of relief flooded over Laura’s face as she smiled. You stood up from the table, bending down to kiss Bucky’s cheek before heading upstairs to the nursery. He watched you go before turning back to the group around the table.

“What happened to your arm, Buck?” Lila asked innocently.

“Uhhmm, well, darlin’, I fell and I tried to break my fall with my metal arm, but I...uhh...wasn’t really able to do that,” Bucky said, not wanting to frighten her with the actual story. Steve looked in his direction with a slight chuckle.

Lila nodded. “Did it hurt?”

“Nah, didn’t hurt at all,” Bucky said nonchalantly.

“Are you gonna get a new one?”

“I dunno,” Bucky mused. “What do you think I should do?”

Lila pursed her lips, deep in thought. She tapped her chin with her finger. “I think you should do what makes you happy. But if you get a new one I would make sure it is stronger than the last one.”

Bucky nodded, “I’ll keep that in mind, darlin’.”

Lila and Cooper were eventually ushered away by their mother indicating they still had farm chores to attend to. Sam and Steve insisted on helping Laura clean up. Seeing Steve with his Captain America suit sleeves rolled up, elbow-deep in soap suds was quite a comical sight.

Clint poured glasses of whiskey as the group continued to discuss their next moves. Pietro expressed a desire to return to Austria with Wanda. Bucky indicated there was plenty of room in the chalet and he was more than welcome. Scott and Clint discussed their options with striking a deal with the feds regarding their punishments for breaking the Accords. After a little while, Bucky began to wonder where you were. He looked around with a slight frown. Laura caught his eye from her place at the kitchen sink and pointed upstairs. He nodded to her and went to find you.

Bucky quietly traversed the staircase. He heard your voice from one of the rooms down the hall. Stopping by the room nearest Clint and Laura’s, he leaned against the doorway and peered inside. You held Nathaniel in your arms as you paced around the room, rocking him to sleep. Watching you interact with Nathaniel in this way sparked something within his chest; almost as if he were catching a glimpse of what his future could be like. It made him happy and sad at the same time. He wanted a life like Clint’s with you. A home. A family. Peace. But the ever-present insecurities brought on by his past deeds reared their ugly heads. Did he deserve that type of future? He knew you and Steve thought so. But he wasn’t sure.

He listened as you softly sang to the sleepy infant in your arms.

**_“...I swear that_ **

**_I'll be around for you_ **

**_I'll do whatever it takes_ **

**_I'll make a million mistakes_ **

**_I'll make the world safe and sound for you…”_ **

  
  


Bucky caught your eye with a smile. You put a finger to your lips, moving toward the crib. Finishing the song, you gently laid Nathaniel down on his back pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. After turning on the baby monitor, you tiptoed out of the room and closed the door slightly.

Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him. Your arms wrapped around his waist. He rested his cheek on the top of your head. “You’re good with him,” he murmured into your hair.

“Eh, babies have always liked me for some reason,” you said softly, resting your head against his chest.

After a moment, Bucky pulled away and nodded toward the sleeping infant. “You ever think about having one of those?”

You smiled softly, turning your gaze back toward the room. “Sometimes...Maybe when all this shit settles down.” You turned to look at him through your lashes, “You?”

Bucky sighed, still staring at the infant. “I used to...That was the plan before everything happened. Go to war, win, come home, get a good job, marry a nice girl, and have a family. Live ‘The American Dream.’” He looked at you, with a sad smile, “I would still like to, but...I don’t know if I actually can...or if I even should.”

You nodded in understanding, “It’s not something we have to figure out right now.” You gave him a small smile and a squeeze around the middle, “We have all the time in the world.”

Bucky nodded. All he wanted was time with you. But, he also wanted to not have to worry about running and hiding. He wanted to not worry about whether or not he may hurt you again. He knew these worries wouldn’t disappear overnight, but he had plenty of time to figure out how to address them. With your help and support, he knew he would be able to have the type of future that he wanted eventually. He kissed the top of your head, “Yes, yes we do.”

A few moments of silence passed between you two as you held one another. “You would make a great dad though,” you murmured, “just saying.”

Bucky smiled softly as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. “You’d make a great mama, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay reunions all around!!
> 
> Also, Bucky being a dad would be fucking adorable. 
> 
> I should have the epilogue posted in a few days. 
> 
> Please continue to comment and leave kudos; I really appreciate the positivity!!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Ginger.
> 
> Beginning quote from Lilo and Stitch
> 
> Song sang to Nathaniel: Dear Theodosia


	27. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I said there will be a short epilogue but this one is basically as long as a chapter - so enjoy!!! 
> 
> Also check out the epiphany Apple Music playlist if you want to see all the music I use as inspiration or have referenced. 
> 
> https://music.apple.com/profile/gingerthestormwitch 
> 
> WARNINGS: Gratuitous smut of the smuttiest kind.

**_  
“Gravity, don't mean that much to me_ **

**_Now I'm floating near the atmosphere_ **

**_No shackles on my feet_ **

**_And I know I may be already gone_ **

**_Just promise you'll stay strong and carry on.”_**

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


** S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. May 2016. **

Much to the dismay of Lila and Cooper, you, Bucky, Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Pietro boarded the Quinjet to return to Austria only a few hours after arriving at the Barton Homestead. Steve didn’t want to risk running into any form of law enforcement that may come looking for Clint. Everyone was tired of fighting for now. The flight to Austria was quiet. The gravity of what had transpired over the past 48 hours settled over everyone’s mind. You and Bucky sat in a secluded corner of the jet away from the others. His head laid in your lap and you played with his hair, lulling him into a light sleep.

“ _We’ll stay in touch, guys, I promise,” Bucky soothed. Fat tears rolled down Lila’s face when Laura told her that you and Bucky wouldn’t be staying this time around. Cooper fell silent and stood sullen slightly away from the group near the jet._

“ _It won’t be two years before you see us again,” you affirmed, ruffling Cooper’s hair. “Maybe one day you guys can come visit us, yeah?”_

_Cooper looked to his father and mother. “Can we Dad?” he asked._

“ _One day soon, pal,” Clint said. He moved in to hug you. “Thank you for coming back for us. I wouldn’t have blamed you for wanting to stay out of it after everything you and Buck have been through.”_

_You shook your head, “You would have done the same for us. You’re my family, Clint. I don’t leave my family behind.”_

“ _You gonna be okay? With my connections, we can probably figure out a deal for you. But, I don’t know about Buck.”_

_You turned to look at Bucky who comforted Lila and Cooper. He attempted to make them laugh; a small smile spread across Lila’s face. “Thanks, but where he goes I go.” You smiled, making eye contact at Steve who stood nearby, “’Til the end of the line.” Steve smiled and nodded._

“ _I figured,” Clint said with a smile and slight nod. “Keep in touch; I’m a phone call away. I may be under house arrest, but I will do everything I can to help if you need me.”_

“ _I will,” you embraced him once more. “I love you, Dad.”_

“ _I love you too, Nightingale.”_

_Laura moved in to say her goodbyes, wrapping you in a warm embrace. “Be safe, Y/N.” She looked over her shoulder to Bucky then back to you, “Take care of each other.”_

“ _I will, Mom,” you squeezed her tightly. “Thank you for everything.”_

_She smiled warmly; her hands cupped your face, “Love you.”_

“ _Love you too.”_

As the jet landed at the chalet, you were alarmed to see a sleek black SUV in the driveway. You quickly moved to the cockpit. “Steve, who-”

“Don’t worry, it’s Natasha,” he placated, powering down the jet.

Bucky and Sam joined you. “Well,” Bucky chuckled as he spied Natasha exiting the SUV, “some of you are going to have to double up.”

“Dibs,” Sam said, clapping a hand over your shoulder.

Bucky shot daggers at Sam who gave him a shit-eating grin. You chuckled, “I thought you would want to share a bed with your boyfriend, Sarge.” Bucky rolled his eyes and poked you in the ribs.

Your newly acquired roommates deplaned; looks of wonderment crossed their faces as they took in their new surroundings. The sun slowly disappeared behind the mountains. It’s warm glow blanketed the chalet as your teammates made their way toward your home. You took a few moments to bask in the last few rays of sunshine.

“Ya comin’, doll?” Bucky called out when he noticed you weren’t behind him.

You nodded, “I’ll be right there.” He smiled before turning around to open the door. Despite what had happened, Bucky appeared to be the most relaxed of the group. You could tell he was happy to have others around, especially people who understood him like Steve and Natasha. 

_“Family don’t end in blood…”_

You could almost hear Hunter’s voice quoting her favorite line from Supernatural; you smiled to yourself. This is what she would have wanted for you, to find a group of people who would have each other’s backs, no matter what. The world may be against you and your team, but at least you had each other. A family. As the last of the light faded, you made your way from the overlook into the chalet.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


Despite the addition of five people, the house was eerily quiet. You leaned against the doorframe observing the scene in front of you. The food Natasha had brought from the valley town below laid out untouched. Wanda absentmindedly moved a tiny ball of red energy around her fingertips while sitting at the dining room table, seemingly staring at nothing. Pietro paced back and forth, sometimes only as a blue blur. Steve stood with his arms crossed facing one of the picture windows next to Natasha; they spoke in hushed tones. Sam and Bucky stood in the kitchen nursing glasses of whiskey; no sibling-like banter or jabs passed between them.

Now that the initial excitement of being in a new and beautiful place had worn off, the realization of the dissolution of The Avengers and their newfound international fugitive status began to sink in. The Accords had taken everything from them. The leaden nature of the atmosphere pressed against you. If you didn’t lighten the mood in some way, you knew you would spiral. “Right,” you said, breaking the silence. You grabbed your laptop and sat it on the coffee table, pulling up your music library and turning the speakers to max volume.

“What are you doin’, doll?” asked Bucky.

“Help me push the couch and coffee table against the wall, Sam.” You gestured to the furniture before you moved your keyboard to the small writing desk by the window. “Sarge, make yourself useful and pour more whiskey.”

Bucky cocked an eyebrow, but grabbed more glasses from the cabinet and filled them with amber liquid. Wanda looked up from the table with a tilt of her head as if she were reading your thoughts. Pietro stopped flitting around the room and stood next to his sister. Steve and Natasha turned your way with quizzical looks.

“What’s this about?” Sam asked as he helped you push the furniture against the wall, leaving a large open space in the middle of the room. The others made their way closer to the open space, curious as to your motives.

“As the amazing Dr. Cristina Yang once said,'' you walked to the kitchen and grabbed two glasses of whiskey, “We need to dance it out.” You handed a glass to Sam before queuing up a song then setting the rest to shuffle. “And I need a Marvin Gaye to my Tammi Terrell,” you raised your glass toward Sam. Bucky chuckled as he leaned against the kitchen island. You shot him a knowing grin, hitting play; you had made him do this a time or two before. The familiar opening notes to “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough'' danced through the speakers. 

“Listen, baby!” Sam sang with a chuckle, using his whiskey glass as a microphone. “Ain’t no mountain high/ Ain't no valley low, ain't no river wide enough baby.”

“If you need me call me no matter where you are/ No matter how far,” you crooned, swaying to the rhythm.

“Don't worry baby!” Sam danced closer to you. Natasha grabbed two glasses from Bucky and handed one to Steve. Pietro and Wanda exchanged looks, slight smiles on their faces as if they were silently communicating.

“Just call my name I'll be there in a hurry/You don't have to worry!” You sang into your whiskey, making eye contact with Bucky. He shook his head at you with his signature smirk. He eyed you with adoration and awe.

“'Cause baby there ain't no mountain high enough/ Ain't no valley low enough/ Ain't no river wide enough/ To keep me from getting to you babe!” You and Sam sang together, bumping hips against one another to the beat.

Continuing to sing, you and Sam moved toward the twins, pulling them into the middle of the floor to dance. Pietro and Wanda jumped around to the beat, bubbles of laughter escaping their chests. Natasha downed her whiskey and then the rest of Steve’s before pulling him by the shirt collar into the group of dancing superheroes. Steve danced somewhat awkwardly, letting Natasha take the lead which suited her just fine. They fell into a natural rhythm as the song progressed, entering their own world. Sam moved to dance with the twins as they bounced around, handing them glasses of whiskey. The three of them sang loudly and off-key. Life and light returned to the chalet with the notes of each song played.

After a few songs, you sauntered over to Bucky, “C’mon, Sarge,” you beckoned, “I need my dance partner.”

Bucky laughed lightly and took a sip of his whiskey, “I’m good right here watching you, doll.”

You looked up at him through your lashes and gently took his whiskey from him, taking a sip of it. “Please? Sam’s got two left feet.”

“I heard that!” Sam called out.

“I meant you too!” you called back not taking your eyes off your super-soldier.

The upbeat song faded to a familiar Big Band standard. You and Bucky instantly recalled a drizzly late spring night spent dancing and drinking scotch in an iconic London pub. You smiled at Bucky with a small laugh, “We always said we would go dancing when this was all over.”

His eyes softened as he smiled too. He held out his hand to you, “Then what are we waiting for?”

You took his hand and squeezed it, “Not a damn thing.” Bucky pulled you onto the terrace. The notes of the song poured out of the open windows. He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you close. You wrapped your arms around his neck; your fingers curled in his long hair. Bucky spun you in slow circles around the terrace. Thousands of stars shone above on the clear mountain night. You thanked them for having your playlist queue up multiple slow songs. You tucked your head in the crook of his neck and he pulled you even tighter to him. Your bodies pressed against one another, melting into each other’s embrace. You breathed him in, allowing his scent to fill your senses. He smelled of woodsy bath soap, whiskey, and musk; the faint tinge of metal had almost disappeared. His hand rubbed up and down your back, caressing every inch of your skin as if to memorize every curve and divot of your body.

With the shift in the music, the impromptu dance party began to slow down. Wanda reclined on the couch with her bare feet in Sam’s lap. Pietro sat on the floor on a fluffy throw pillow. They talked and laughed amongst themselves for a while before Sam snatched the remnants of the whiskey bottle. The three of them bolted for Sam’s room, shouting incoherent babble about a “cool kids only” after-party.

Natasha and Steve sat at the dining room table picking at a plate of brettljause. Natasha sat in her chair with her legs tucked under one another. Her knee touched Steve’s thigh. His fingers gently traced patterns on her knee. Their faces inches from one another. They made quiet conversation as they snacked on the various meats and cheeses.

Eventually, your luck of a string of multiple slow songs ran out as ABBA’s “Mamma Mia!” suddenly blared through the speakers. You chuckled. Bucky sighed contentedly and kissed your forehead, breathing in the scent of your hair. “I’ll go get everything put away, and show Natasha and Steve their room.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand, “Don’t be too long.”

Bucky nodded as he squeezed back, “Yes, ma’am.” He brushed a kiss across your knuckles before heading inside.

You sighed and turned to look out at the view below. You rested your elbows against the terrace railing, breathing in the spring night air. The waxing moon began to rise over the mountains’ summits, slowly bathing everything in a silvery glow. Your moment of peace was interrupted by the buzzing of the secure line in your pocket. You cocked an eyebrow wondering why Clint was calling you so soon. You answered the phone as you walked to the overlook, “I literally just left your house, Dad.”

“I’ve been called many things, but never Dad, Agent L/N.” A familiar voice answered.

You stopped in your tracks. “Director Fury.”

“Not anymore,” Fury said, “Coulson is the Director now. I’m retired.”

You smiled, “Didn’t figure you for the retiring kind.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure, sir?”

“I hear you and Sergeant Barnes have made a home out of an old S.H.I.E.L.D. safehouse in Austria.”

You frowned, looking out to the mountain valley town below. It’s warm lights mimicked the twinkle of the stars above. “I’m assuming since you are calling from his secure line that Clint told you – the rat bastard.”

“He did.”

“So...what?” you sighed heavily as you rubbed your forehead, “Is Coulson kicking us out?”

“Coulson has been made aware of the situation. However, neither he nor S.H.I.E.L.D. will bother you, Barnes, or any others that may or may not be with you in any way. They will even try to keep other interested parties off your scent, such as the Secretary of State and Everett Ross, both of whom you have made very angry by the way.

“May I ask why?” You asked as you made your way back to the chalet.

“We are both in agreement that The Accords as they are written now are extremely flawed. Limitations on the protectors of our planet are not what’s needed right now. With that said, you have our permission to use the house how you see fit for the foreseeable future.”

You nodded, “Understood, sir, and thank you.”

Fury ended the call as you ascended the terrace steps. You sighed as you put the phone away. Bucky, Steve, and Natasha met you at the door. “Who was that?” Bucky asked.

“Fury,” you replied, “He and Director Coulson are aware of us using this safe house, but they will leave us alone. Seems that they too are not the biggest fans of The Accords.”

“Wait, Coulson is alive?” Steve asked incredulously, looking at Natasha then back to you.

“How?” Natasha asked.

“Am I the only one who did the reading?” you asked. “You dumped all of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files onto the internet two years ago, Nat. It’s all explained there.”

Natasha shrugged and nodded, “Fair enough.”

Steve looked dumbfounded and somewhat sad. You chuckled, “Oh Specimen, that’s the same face Sarge made when I told him Pluto wasn’t considered a planet anymore.”

Steve’s eyes widened, flabbergasted, “And why the hell is it not?!”

“I know right?!” Bucky nodded excitedly at Steve’s like-mindedness, “Absolutely absurd! How old were we when they discovered Pluto? 12? 13?”

“Three days after your 13th birthday,” Steve said, nodding as he recalled the memory. “We sat around the radio as they discussed it, remember?”

“Best birthday present ever.”

Natasha snorted, “Careful, boys, you’re really starting to show your age there.” You chortled. Bucky and Steve rolled their eyes.

You nudged Natasha with your elbow, “Soon they’ll be starting all their sentences with ‘Well, back in my day’.”

She chuckled holding her chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Do you think they could get a senior citizens discount?” she mused.

“Oooo, cheap movie tickets!” you exclaimed.

“Early bird specials.”

“Free lifetime pass to all the US National Parks.”

“Oh,” Natasha gasped, “let’s not forget the discounted gym membership.” You and Natasha nodded to each other in agreement. Shit-eating grins plastered across your faces as you looked back to the almost 100-year-old men in front of you.

“Hilarious,” Steve deadpanned, his hands on his hips.

“Ya know what, doll? I think I’ll bunk with Stevie after all,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. You snorted as his empty threat fell flat.

“Fine,” you smirked, threading your arm through Natasha’s. “But Nat and I call the master bedroom.” Natasha flashed a sly smirk at the two super-soldiers. Before both of you turned to walk into the chalet, Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. Instantly, they were both at your sides. Steve began to tickle Natasha. She yelped and squirmed to get away. A huge genuine smile spread across her face as she laughed, running into the chalet to escape.

Before you could run after her, Bucky pinned you against the doorframe, pressing his body into yours. Your breathing hitched as his lips ghosted over yours. Suddenly, he knelt down and tossed you over his shoulder effortlessly. You squeaked and looked at Natasha in a plea for help. She gave you a look as if to say, “You’re on your own” before dashing down the opposite hallway; Steve hot on her heels.

“Goodnight, punk,” Bucky called out as he made his way down the hall to the master bedroom.

“Goodnight, jerk,” Steve replied.

  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  


After locking the door, Bucky tossed you on the bed with a soft grunt. You giggled in anticipation, running your hand lightly up and down his arm as he planked over you. He dived down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss before lying himself down alongside you. Your hands found his face as you kissed him once more, molding your body into his. Your lips moved together in a slow passionate dance.

His hand traveled from your face down your neck. His feather-light touches sent familiar sparks of electricity through your body as his hand continued down the curve of your waist to your hip. He gently lifted your dress to caress the skin underneath, slowly moving back up to palm your breasts. You moaned into his mouth as his thumb flicked your nipple to a hardened nub straining the lace of your bra. Your hands threaded through his hair, tugging lightly. He smiled against your lips.

You hooked your leg around his waist as your hands explored the expanse of his chest. Fingers skimming over the rise and fall of each muscle. It felt as if he were cut from marble. A sharp contrast to the softness of your body. Bucky’s stubble lightly scratched your face as his mouth moved from your kiss-swollen lips to the pulse point of your neck. Your breathing hitched as he gently bit down, bruising the delicate skin, marking you as his.

Your hand moved down and palmed the growing bulge in his jeans. He clicked his tongue and ceased his ministrations on your breasts to move your hand back to his hair. “Nu încă,” he chastised softly. _(“Not just yet.”)_ You pouted slightly. His chest rumbled with a low chuckle at the sight. Once more his lips left open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat and down your collarbone. Your body sang at his touch, relishing the slow build-up of pleasure in your core.

His hand moved beneath your dress once more. He tugged at the bottom of it, “Acest lucru trebuie să meargă.” _(“This needs to go.”)_ You bit your lip and nodded, sitting up slightly to remove it. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as he blatantly took in the sight of your half-naked body. You wrapped your arms around your middle, trying to conceal the bruises you had acquired, not wanting him to feel guilty. He smiled softly, and lightly brushed your arms away. Leaning you back against the pillows, he brushed kisses over your injuries. “Semne ale unei eroine, ale cuiva care ar face orice pentru bărbatul pe care îl iubește,” he whispered, as his lips mapped your body. _(“Marks of a heroine, of someone who will do anything for the man she loves.”)_ His lips ghosted over your lace-clad breasts; your nipples pebbled with the heat of his breath. Your heartbeat quickened; your chest heaved with your sharp intake of breath. “Ești un războinic. Atât de curajos. Salvatorul meu,” he said as his lips grazed over your chest, nipping the fevered skin of your collarbone. _(“You are a warrior. So brave. My savior.”)_

You pulled his face to yours, kissing him deeply. His tongue mingled with your own. You wanted to lose yourself in his embrace, in his touch. You softly bit his lip as you pulled away; a low growl tumbled from his lips. Your eyes raked over his still clothed torso. You bit your lip and beckoned him to sit up with a crook of your finger. “Acest lucru trebuie să meargă.” _(“This needs to go.”)_ Bucky smirked as you slowly pushed his shirt up and over his head.

Discarding the shirt to the side, you straddled his lap, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your fingertips and lips traced the outlines of his many scars causing him to sigh heavily. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in closer before slowly moving up your back to pinch open the bra’s clasp. The straps slid down your shoulders; he grabbed the front to remove the garment from your body. Once bare, his mouth once again found your breasts; he sucked each nipple in turn, bringing them to attention. Your sensitivity to his touch grew with each lap of his tongue; you shuddered with an airy moan. You knew you would be sore in the best possible way tomorrow. You smiled and tilted your head back savoring the sensations; your fingers threaded through his hair, clutching him to you.

You ground your hips into his, bringing a sudden awareness to the dampness of your underwear. As his mouth continued to ravage your breasts, the pleasure in your core began to swell. If he kept this up, you were sure you would cum without him even touching your cunt. You mewled his name as a desperate prayer.

He hummed in pleasure at your reactions; the vibrations felt heavenly as they traveled through your body. “Hmmm, să vedem dacă te pot face să ajungi la punctul culminant exact așa. Huh, Y/N?” _(“Let's see if I can make you climax just like this”)_

Your cunt clenched as you nodded, unable to form words, letting the sensations caused by his lips and tongue slowly consume you. Unbidden breathy moans and partial whispers of “James” and “Vă rog” _(“Please”)_ tumbled from your lips as your walls fluttered signaling your release. Your underwear now thoroughly soaked from your climax. You felt the prickle of sweat on your forehead and the back of your neck as you trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Bucky rumbled an almost cruel chuckle as his lips found yours. His signature smirk etched across his face as he pulled away to admire your blissed-out state. He tucked a damp strand of your hair behind your ear, “La naiba, sunt bine.” _(“Damn, I’m good.”)_

You tilted your head to the side, “Asta e tot?” _(“Is that so?”)_ You gently pushed him back on the pillows. You left your own open-mouthed kisses and love bites on his chest as you made your way down to his Adonis belt. Your breath fanned along the waistband of his jeans, you looked back to his face. He eyed you with a smoldering gaze; his pupils were blown. He writhed slightly below you in a silent plea. “Ce doreşti?” you asked sultrily. _(“What do you want?”)_ You knew what he wanted, but you wanted to hear it, you craved that vulnerability.

“Pune-ți gura pe pulă meu,” he breathed, his voice eager; it shook slightly. _(“Put your mouth on my cock.”)_ His eyes never left yours as you fondled the snap of his jeans.

Cracking a devilish smile, you slowly undid the fly of his jeans. “După doriți,” you said sweetly, sliding his jeans and underwear down his legs. _(“As you wish.”)_ His erection sprang free from the confines of his underwear, precum seeped from the tip. Sliding back up his body, you kissed him again before you wrapped your hand around his cock pumping him a few times. He groaned into your mouth; your cunt throbbed at the sounds he made. 

You traveled down the planes of his torso, leaving kisses in your wake. The exquisite low moan that tumbled from his lips as yours wrapped around his cock heightened your arousal, igniting a hunger you had never been aware of. His heady scent filled your nose, sending your brain into overdrive with the potency of his presence. His warm honeyed moans boosted your confidence making your movements more enthusiastic as your lips dragged up and down his smooth shaft. With every dart and swirl of your tongue, he instinctually bucked his hips against your mouth. His hand found the back of your neck, not to hold you there, but as a way to signify his surrender to your touch. You continued your slow passionate assault on his shaft, slowly dragging your nails up and down his thighs, feeling his erection growing ever firmer. 

“Dragă,” Bucky’s huskily whispered after a few moments. _(“Darling”)_ He squeezed the back of your neck lightly, stilling your movements. Your mouth released his length with a soft pop. You peppered chaste kisses up his body to his lips which took bold possession of your own. Your mouths dueled for dominance as he tasted himself on your tongue. 

His hand delved between your damp thighs, deftly removing your lacy barely-there panties. His fingers slipped easily between your folds and gently probed and stretched your softness, preparing you for him. You rested your forehead against his neck with a low breathy moan as his fingers languorously explored your cunt. His breath warm against your forehead as he gravelly whispered sweet nothings in Romanian. Each brush of his fingertips against that sweet spot inside you stoked the fire building in your body, causing your legs to quiver. “Dragule,” you groaned, your voice thick with want and need. _(“Darling.”)_ Bucky slowly removed his fingers and sucked them clean, keeping your gaze the entire time. Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight. 

He flashed you his signature smirk before you straddled him once more. You smiled smugly as you braced his shoulders against the mattress. He chuckled darkly, but let you have control. The head of his erection nudged your entrance as you captured his mouth eager to taste yourself on his tongue. You rubbed your wetness against his shaft a few times to tease him, delighting in the furrow of his brow as he wrestled with his need. Slowly you sank back onto him, taking him to the hilt. A guttural groan ripped from his chest as he finally filled you. Your eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy at the fullness, your head tilted back at the sensations. Slowly, you began to rock your hips back and forth. You steadied yourself pressing your hands into the lean muscle of his belly, allowing his throbbing length to withdraw and then fill you over and over. 

Bucky kept his gaze locked on your movements, savoring the sight of himself buried in your sweet heat. Sharp breaths through noses filled the room. His hips undulated against yours as you rode him; his fingers dug deliciously into your hip and thighs. Your mind spun dizzily at the building sensation of warmth in your core. Several unabashed moans tumbled unbidden from your lips as his thrusts matched yours, nudging you ever closer to oblivion as you felt every inch of him. Your hands slithered up your body to fondle your breasts. You tugged at your sensitive pert nipples, relishing the mix of pleasure and pain. You lowly cried out his name as the pad of his thumb circled your plumb and throbbing clit. You arched your back to give him better access as he gently coaxed you closer to the edge. 

“Dă-i drumul, dragostea mea,” Bucky soughed. _(“Let go, my love.”)_ Your hips rolled against him fervently, pressing his thumb into your swollen bundle of nerves in a rhythmic fashion, sending you over the edge. You bit your lip to keep from crying out as the waves of pleasure crashed against you in an all-consuming climax; your vision went white as the passionate tide overtook your senses. You crumpled against his chest, utterly spent. 

In one smooth motion, Bucky rolled you over and sheathed himself inside you once more. Tingles of pleasure ricocheted inside your body as his hips surged into yours, prolonging your orgasm. The sounds of the slapping of wet skin and low sultry moans filled the room. Bucky’s lips fused to yours and held you there as the pleasure mounting in your core reached new heights with each thrust.

You felt as if you had reached a new form of spiritual transcendence as you worshiped one another’s bodies. His thrusts may have been filled with a primal need, but there was also a loving tenderness behind his movements. At that moment you knew for certain...you loved this man and he loved you. And, no matter what the world threw at you, no one, nothing could ever take that from you. A single tear fell from the corner of your eye disappearing into your hairline at the thought. 

Bucky’s thrusts became erratic, his breathing ragged; he was close. Your eyes slid shut in preparation for another earth-shattering climax, each stroke of his cock driving your pleasure to new heights. Your legs wrapped around his waist. 

“Uită-te la mine, Y/N,” Bucky breathed heavily. _(“Look at me.”)_

Your eyes found his steel-blue ones, filled with emotion. Love. Adoration. Awe. Your arms encircled his neck as he leaned his forehead against your own, continuing to rock against you. The coil of pleasure in your core tightened, ready to snap. You weren’t sure if you could take another orgasm, the sensations were becoming overwhelming. “James,” you sighed raggedly.

His gaze pierced your own. “Vino desfăcut cu mine, dragostea mea,” he said with breathless urgency. _(“Come undone with me, my love.)_

You shook your head, “Nu pot,” you soughed. _(“I can’t.”)_ Your hips met his, thrust for thrust. You tugged at his hair once more. 

“Ba da, poți,” he breathed. _(“Yes, you can.”)_

You nodded once, cupping his face with your hands before capturing his lips once more in a passionate open-mouthed kiss. He thrust into you once more, sending your back arching in pleasure as the coil deep within your core snapped. You swore you saw stars. You floated in a sea of pleasure watching his jaw fall open slightly with a low cry of your name as came, spilling himself into you with a last few languid thrusts. 

Once more, he rolled over and rested against the pillows, pulling you on top of him still joined as one. You radiated one another’s heat; your limbs were heavy with exhaustion. Both of you attempted to even out your breathing as your bodies trembled with the aftershocks of your combined orgasm. His hand ran through your hair as your fingers danced over the scars surrounding the remains of his metal arm. As he went soft inside you, you moved off of him slightly, catching his lips in a gentle lingering kiss before resting against his chest once more. At the same time, you both signed in contentment then chuckled. 

You sat up and pushed his hair back, allowing your fingers to tenderly trace the contours of his face, “I love you.”

He smiled and brought his hand up to cover yours, holding it against his cheek. “I love you too,” 

Your thumb caressed his cheekbone; you searched his face. “I want you to know that no matter what, even though the whole world is against us, there is nothing, absolutely nothing, I wouldn’t do just to stay by your side.” your voice was thick with emotion, “‘Til the end of the line, Sarge.”

He smiled softly, his eyes were glassy. His hand moved to the back of your neck and pulled you towards him capturing your lips in a long, liquid kiss, full of promise. After a moment, he dragged his lips from yours to catch your eye, “‘Til the end of the line, doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR’S NOTES: 
> 
> I honestly can’t believe I am done with this story. It’s been an extremely long time since I have written anything for myself, let alone other people. I started this story because I was spiraling in a depressive episode and needed something to help me claw my way out. Thank you to everyone for the love and support. You have no idea how happy it makes me that I am able to bring joy to other people through my writings. 
> 
> The next book will be called illuminate. It will cover events leading up to Infinity War but will divert from canon quite a bit once halfway through the movie’s sequence of events. I think I have the majority of the plot figured out so far, but I am going to take a few days to get everything together before posting the first chapter. 
> 
> If you love this story, please share it with others!! Thanks so much for reading!! I love each and every one of you!!
> 
> Ginger
> 
> Beginning quote from “Carry On” by Falling in Reverse


End file.
